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BISHO 


F BUTLER’S 


ANALOGY OF RELIGION, 

NATURAL AND REVEALED, 

TO THE 

CONSTITUTION AND COURSE OF NATURE. 


“ Ejus (Analogic) haec vis cst, ut id quod dubium cst, ad aliquid simile, do quo non 
quacritur, rcfcrat, ut incerta certis probet.” — Quinct. Inst. Orat., 1. 1, c. vi. 


WITH 

Slti 5ltinlt}0i0, 

LEFT UNFINISHED BY THE LATE 

REV. ROBERT EMORY, D.D., 

PRESIDENT OF DICKINSON COLLEGE: 


COMPLETED AND EDITED, WITH • 

A LIFE OF BISHOP BUTLER, NOTES AND INDEX, 
G. ErCROOKS. 


NEW YORK: 

HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 

FRANKLIN SQUARE. 

1891 . 


((' 


0 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand 
eight hundred and fifty -two, by 

Harpek & Brothers, 

in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the Southern District 
of New York, 

Copyright, 1880, by G. R, Crooks. 


In exch. 
of G. Pub. Lib. 
AUG ti 







PREFACK. 


The Analysis, which is the principal feature of tlic presenl 
edition of Butler’s Analogy, was completed by the late Pre- 
sident Emory, of Dickinson College, to the end of Chap. 2, 
Part II. A slight skeleton, however, which was found among 
his papers, indicated, to some extent, the plan he intended to 
pursue, in analyzing the rest of the work. This has been 
freely used, so that the Editor confidently hopes no important 
deviation has been made from the lamented author’s original 
design. 

The Biographical Sketch will be found to contain some new 
facts, not heretofore published in this country. For these, the 
public are indebted to the researches of Bev. Thomas Bartlett, 
>f England. The Editor has ventured a few notes, and haa 
Ldded a few from Dr. Chalmers’ lectures on the Analogy, and, 
at the request of the publishers, a number from Professor Fita^ 
gerald’s edition of the work. They are designed mainly for 
the elucidation of the text, rather than for comment. Notes 
not by Bishop Butler are enclosed in brackets. 

It is LOt generally known that an Index to the Analogy wa.? 
executovi in Bishop Buthr’s lifetime, by Dr. Bentham, of the 

(ui) 


PREFACE. 


i? 

University of Oxford, and revised and approved by the Bishoj 
himself. It is only recently that it has come to light. The 
Index herewith presented, though based on Dr. Bentham^s, has 
been carefully re-written, and we trust will be found abundantly 
useful for reference. 

Dr. Emory was led to prepare the Analysis by the observa- 
tion of the difficulties encountered by students in grasping the 
subtle, and not always happily expressed, argument of the 
Analogy. Those who enjoyed the benefit of his instructions 
during his lifetime, will recognize at once in it the marks of 
his eminently clear, logical intellect. It is not to be sup- 
posed that any analysis will supersede the necessity of close 
attention in the study of Butler; but this being given, it it 
believed that the helps here provided will enable the student 
to obtain a distinct, satisfactory impression of the course of 
reasoning in this unanswerable defence of our Ohii» 

hanity. 


pKix.ADSiJ’arA, Jclj 3, 1851. 


LIFE 

OF 

BISHOP BUTLER. 


A* 


(y) 



THE 


LIFE OF BISHOP BOTLER 


Mil. Bartlett,’ who is connected by marriage with the do 
Bccndants of Bishop Butler’s eldest brother, has colleo.jd from 
family sources a number of interesting facts, illustrativ e of the 
life and character of the Author of the Analogy. These ho 
has added to the only memoir of Butler previously given to the 
world, — that of Dr. Kippis, first published in the Biographia 
Britannica, — and has presented the whole as the most complete 
account of the subject at present attainable. We may there- 
fore suppose, that we have reached the ne plus ultra of our 
inquiries in this direction. All that affection and tradition had 
treasured up, has been spread before us; and we may now sit 
down, and tell over our scanty store, glad that it is as abundant 
as it is. We owe a debt of gratitude to Mr. Bartlett, for giving 
us a better view of Butler as a man than we had before. In 
the following sketch, we shall endeavour to spread before tho 
reader, the new information derived from these sources, using, 
for the sake of connection, the facts already known and familiar. 

Joseph Butler was born in the market town of Wantage, 
in Berkshire, England, on the 18th of May, 1692. He was 
the youngest of eight children. His fatlier, Thomas Butler, 
was a respectable and prosperous linen-draper in Wantage, but 
at the time of Joseph’s birth had retired from business, and 
was residing at the extremity of the town, in a house called the 
Priory. The house, though since much altered, is yet standing, 
and the room is still shown, in which Butler is said to have been 
born. His education was begun in the Grammar School cf hif 

('vii^ 


LIFE OF BISHOP BUTLER. 


riii 

native place, under the direction of the Rev. Philip Barton, a 
clergyman of the Church of England. Here he was grounded 
in the elements of classical knowledge. But his father, soon 
perceiving his son^s talent and inclination for learning, deter- 
mined to rear him for the ministry in his own denomination, 
(the Presbyterian,) and for this purpose removed him to a Bis 
jenting academy at Gloucester, then kept by Mr. Samuel Jones 
Mr. Jones is mentioned by Butler’s biographer with great honour, 
&s having had in the number of his pupils, many distinguished 
men. Among these we find the names of Lardner, author of 
the Credibility of the Gospels ; Lord Bowes, Chancellor of Ire- 
land; Br. Edward Chandler; and Seeker, Butler’s intimate 
and inseparable friend, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury. 

Butler was exceedingly happy in his friendships. His inti- 
macy with Seeker began in early youth, and lasted without 
interruption through a long life. Seeker outlived Butler, and 
in his last years gave earnest proof of his affection, by the energy 
with which he defended the memory of his friend from unjust 
aspersions The influence of this, and another intimacy, upon 
Butler’s whole career, will be frequently seen in the course of 
this sketch. 

From a very early period of life, his thoughts were directed 
to subjects of metaphysical and theological inquiry. At the ago 
of twenty-one, and while yet a pupil in Mr. Jones’ academy, 
he gave astonishing proof of his intellectual vigour, and of his 
progress in such studies, by his anonymous correspondence with 
Br. Samuel Clarke, the author of the celebrated “ Bemonstra- 
tion of the Being and Attributes of God.” The Bemonstration 
had just been published, and was attracting universal attention. 
What Clarke professed to have accomplished, Butler had long 
been endeavouring to do. In his first letter to the doctor, he 
writes thus : 

“ I have made it my business, ever since I thought myself capable 
ef 5uch sort of reasoning, to prove to myself the being and attributes 
of God. And being sensible that it is a matter of the last conse 


LIFE OF BISHOP BUTLER. 


11 


qncnce, I have endeavoured after a demonstrative projf ; not onlj 
more fully to satisfy my own mind, but also in order to defend the 
great truths of natural religion, and those of the Christian revelation 
which follow from them, against all opposers : but must own, with 
concern, that hitherto I have been unsuccessful ; and though I have 
got very probable arguments, yet I can go very little way with demon* 
Btration in the proof of these things.” 

He was not able to satisfy himself of the conclusiveness of 
the reasoning in the sixth and seventh propositions, (on the 
omnipresence and unity of the Deity;) and he states, in the 
most modest terms, the objections thereto which had arisen in 
his mind. His diffidence led him to conceal his name; and 
the correspondence was managed by Seeker, who carried the 
letters to the post-office at Gloucester, and brought back Clarke^a 
replies. His objections show the penetrating metaphysician, 
and the cautious and solid reasoner, already developed. With 
darkens explanation of the first of the two propositions, he 
professed himself satisfied : but in removing the objections to 
the ^ther, the author of the demonstration was not so success- 
ful ; and the correspondence, after extending to five letters from 
each, closed. In his last letter, the doctor speaks in the highest 
terms of the candour of his opponent, and afterwards evinced 
his opinion of the merit of the correspondence, by appending 
it to the succeeding editions of the Demonstration. Of these 
letters of Butler’s, Sir James Mackintosh says, ‘‘ He suggested 
objections to the celebrated demonstration, which are really in- 
guperable, and which arc marked by an acuteness which neither 
he nor any other ever surpassed.”* 

It is well to observe, that Butler’s efforts to obtain demon 
strati ve evidence for the truths of religion seem here to have 


* We believe that it is now generally conceded, that attempts t<j 
prove the existence of God demonstratively, are more than uscleas. 
“ Nc matter of fact can be mathematically demonstrated, though il 
may be proved in such a manner as to leave no doubt on the mind.” 
Whatelei/’s Loffic, book iv. chap. 2. 


IJFE OF BISHOP BUTLEK. 


JL 

ceased. Where Clarke ended, Butler began. The remaining 
years of the author of the Analogy were spent in bringing to 
bear upon Christianity that evidence of probability which, though 
less imposing than demonstration, is yet capable of rising to the 
highest moral certainty ; and in tracing out the close resemblance 
between the light afforded us by revelation, and that which we 
enjoy in our common and daily life. 

SoC'D after, there occurred a change in his views, which altered 
til the outward relations of his life. He became dissatisfied 
^ith the grounds of non-conformity, and resolved to unite with 
the Established Church. This step was taken after much reflec- 
tion, and doubtless from conscientious impulses ; but it was by 
no means agreeable to the wishes of his father. Several neigh- 
bouring Presbyterian ministers were accordingly summoned 
assist in removing the young student^s scruples, but without 
success. And Thomas Butler, finding his son’s purpose of con- 
forming was not to be shaken, at length yielded, and entered 
him as a commoner of Oriel College, Oxford, on the 17th of 
March, 1714. 

At Oxford he formed an intimacy with Mr. Edward Talbot, 
second son of Dr. Edward Talbot, afterwards Bishop of Dur- 
ham. This friendship was the means of securing to Butler the 
patronage of Mr. Talbot’s father. Through the influence of 
his young friend, and that of his former correspondent. Dr. 
Clarke, he was, in 1718, appointed preacher at the Bolls’ Court, 
London. He was then in his twenty-sixth year, and had not 
Dcen long ordained. The mind of Seeker underwent, though 
»£,ore slowly, the same change as Butler’s, on the subject of 
conformity; and young Mr. Talbot, about this time dying, so 
effectually commended them both to the favour of his father, 
that Dr. Talbot, upon his translation to the see of Durham, in 
1721, presented Butler with the living of Haughton, and Seeker, 
shortly after, with that of JtTaughfon-le- Spring. 

The parsonage at Haughton being in a dilapidated state, But 
IfiT determined to repair it. A passion fc» rebuilding and orna^ 


LIFE OF BISHOP BUTLER. 


x! 


meriting seems to have possessed him throughout the whole of 
his long life. He was jealous of the external glory of the 
Church. With but one exception, wherever he resided he either 
altered, or enlarged, or restored. In his last charge, he quotes, 
with great approbation, the language of Bishop Fleetwood, that 
'•' unless the good public spirit of building, repairing, and adorn- 
hig churches prevails a great deal more among us, a nundred 
fears will bring to the ground a huge number of churches.” 
[n the after part of his life, having purchased an elegant man- 
sion at Hampstead,- he ornamented some of the windows with 
beautiful painted glass, representing various Scriptural subjects. 
But in improving the private chapel in the episcopal palace at 
Bristol, the erection of a cross — though doubtless innocently 
meant — occasioned great controversy and trouble. Had h* 
executed his contemplated repairs at Haughton, he would have 
become seriously involved; for the entire sum due from the 
parish for dilapidations was only sixty pounds. But his friend 
Seeker rescued him from such a prospect of trouble, by pre- 
vailing on Bishop Talbot to transfer him, in 1725, to the richer 
benefice of Stanhope, where, fortunately, there was no occasion 
for any repairing to be done. 

Soon after his translation to Stanhope, he resigned his ap- 
pointment at the Rolls ; but before resigning, he published his 
^‘Fifteen Sermons” dedicating them to Sir Joseph Jekyl, 
Master of the Rolls, as a parting mark of gratitude for the 
favour received during his connexion with that learned society.” 
We are informed in the preface, that the selection of these ser- 
mons from amongst others preached in the same place, during 
a course of eight years,” was altogether accidental. Bishop 
Buller, at his death, ordered all his manuscripts to be destroyed. 
These sermons are of such inestimable value in settling the true 
grounds of ethical science, that great regret has been expressed, 
♦hat the others, thus accidentally omitted, were not also pro- 
«erv(}d. Butler assuredly knew the valu« of his own writings 


zu 


LIFE OF BISHOP BCTLEK. 


H has therefore been conjectured* that the remaining scrniong 
were wrought into the Analogy; and that this was his reason 
for directing them to be burnt, without being read by anj 
one/' ^^Tn these sermons/' says Sir James Mackintosh, ‘^he 
has taught truths more capable of being exactly distinguished 
from the doctrines of his predecessors, more satisfactorily esta* 
blished by him, more comprehensively applied to particulars, 
aaore rationally connected with each other, and therefore more 
worthy of the name of discovery j than any with which we are 
acquainted." 

His contributions to a correct theory of morals, consist : 1. In 
his distinction between self-love and the primary appetites ; and, 
2. In his clear exposition of the existence and supremacy of 
conscience. The objects of our appetites and passions out- 
ward things, which are sought simply as ends; thus food is the 
object of hunger, and drink the object of thirst. Some of the 
primary desires lead directly to- our private good, and others to 
the good of the community. Hunger and thirst, above cit/)d, 
are instances of the former; the affection for one’s child is un 
instance of the latter. They may be considered as so manj 
simple impulses, which are to be guided and controlled by our 
higher powers. Pleasure is the concomitant of their gratifica^ 
tion ; but, in their original state, is no separate part of the aim 
of the agent. All these primary impulses are contemplated by 
gelf-love, as the material out of which happiness is to be con- 
structed. Self-love is a regard for our happiness as a whole : 
such a regard is not a vice, but a commendable quality. Self- 
love is not selfishness. Selfishness is destructive of human hap- 
piness, and, as such, self-love condemns it. The so-called 
bfuevolent affections are consequently disinterested; as likewise 
M8 (in their incomplex manifestations) our physical appetites 
»nd malevolent feelings. But Desides these principles of oui 
nature, there is one, which is supreme over all others : this is 


* This conjecture is Prof. Fitzgerald’s. 


LIFE OP BISUOP BUTJ.ER xii) 

eonsfnence. Shaftsbury had before pointed out the emotional 
character of conscience, under the term moral sense; but its 
distinguishing attribute of supremacy he had failed to notice 
Butler, acknowledging the correctness of his lordship’s partial 
view, combined with it the element necessary to make an entira 
truth,* — the character of conscience, as the highest tribunal of 
man’s nature, “which surveys, approves, or disapproves tha 
several affections of our minds, and passions of our lives.” The 
practical weakness of conscience does not destroy its authority ; 
a.nd though its mandates are often disregarded, yet the obliga- 
tions to render it obedience remain unimpaired. In this view 
of the several principles within us, and their relations to each 
other, virtue may be said, in the language of the ancients, to 
'jonsist in following nature ; that is, nature correctly interpreted 
and understood. 

It is remarkable, that in the second edition of the Sermons, 
published in 1729, Butler defends his style from the charge of 
obscurity. As this complaint is one frequently made still, it is 
well to hear what he says for himself. “ It must be acknow- 
ledged,” he tells us, “that some of the following discourses are 
very abstruse and difficult, or, if you please, obscure; but I 
must take leave to add, that those alone are judges, whether or 
no, and how far, this is a fault, who are judges, whether or 
no, and how far, it might have been avoided — those only who 
will be at the trouble to understand what is here said, and to 
see how far the things here insisted upon, and not other things, 
might have been put in a plainer manner; which yet I am very 
far from asserting that they could not. Thus much, however, 
will be allowed, that general criticisms concerning obscurity, 
considered as a distinct thing from confusion and perplexity of 

* “ The not tahing into consideration this authority, which is im- 
‘j.died in the idea of reflex approbation or disapprobation, seems a 
material deficiency or omission in Lord Shaftsbury s ‘ Inquiry con 
f-eining Virtue ’ ” — Buller's preface to the Sfrmons. 

1 


LIFE OF BISHOP LUTLER. 


£17 

thought, as in some cases there may be ground for tl'em, so i® 
others, they may be nothing more at bottom than complaints 
that everything is not to be understood with the same ease that 
some things are. Confusion and perplexity of writing is, in- 
deed, without excuse; because any one may, if he pleases, 
know whether he understands and sees through what he ia 
fcbout : and it is unpardonable for a man to lay his thought! 
before others, when he is conscious that he himself docs not 
know whereabouts he is, and how the matter before him stands. 
It is coming abroad in disorder, which he ought to be dissatis- 
fied to find himself in at home.^^ We must infer from this pas- 
sage, that Butler was not conscious (at least at this period of 
his life) of those defects, which have been universally attributed 
to his style. All that he has written is so compressed, that he 
cannot be well understood, without corresponding concentration 
of mind on che part of his reader. His very caution makes his 
progress toward any given point appear slow and laborious - 
But he is nowhere guilty of what, in this extract, he considers 
almost a crime — confusion of thought. On the contrary, the 
more attentively he is studied, the more do new light and truth 
break forth ■ from his well-compacted sentences. Passages are 
not wanting which are happily expressed; and the whole of 
chap. V., of part II. of the Analogy, reads smoothly enough to 
satisfy the most fastidious critic. 

After leaving London in 1726, he lived in retirement at 
Stanhope for a period of seven years. Here he planned and 
wrote the Analogy. Of the details of his private life during 
this period we know little or nothing. We learn that he was 
scrupulously faithful in the discharge of his clerical duties ; that 
he was much beloved by Lis parishioners; and that he was 
exceedingly kind to the poor. But Seeker, fearing that Butlcr^a 
spirits were suffering from so much close study and seclusion, pre- 
vailed upon Lord Chancellor Talbot, (the brother of the deceased 
Edward Talbot) to nominate him his chaplain, in 1783, and a 
prebendary of Rochester in 1736. Through the indefatigabh 


LIFE OF BISHOP BUTLER X’V 

exertions of the same friend, his name was brought to the notice 
of Queen Caroline. This was soon followed by his appointment 
to be clerk of the closet to the queen. Indeed, Butler found, 
ever after, in her a firm and fast friend. She was exceedingly 
fond of philosophers and philosophic conversation ; and hex 
chaplain’s attendance was therefore commanded every evening 
from seven till nine. 

In 1736 the Analogy was published, with a dedication to 
Lord Chancellor Talbot. It attracted so much attention upon 
its first appearance^ that a second edition was published the 
same year. It has been pronounced, by the universal consent 
of thinking men, to be a work, which, in the originality of its 
plan, and the skill of its execution, is exceeded by no other 
upon the evidences of religion ever written. It was a book for 
the times, but the author so constructed it as to give it a value for 
all time. It is come,” he says in his advertisement^ to be 
taken for granted by many persons, that Christianity is not so 
much as a subject of inquiry, but that it is now at length dis- 
covered to be fictitious.” A scoffing way of treating religion 
prevailed among the educated and polite of the age. It was 
considered a mark of spirit to make an open profession of free- 
thinking. Plausible objections were urged against particular 
doctrines; difficulties were exaggerated; and Christianity was 
made a matter of ridicule, “ as it were by way of reprisals, for 
its having so long interrupted the pleasures of the world.” 
This habit of confining the attention to what could be said 
against the varioui doctrines of religion destroyed the effect of 
its evidences. These objections had therefore to be met directly. 
The doctrines had to be extricated from the entanglement of 
sophistry, in which they were involved. Besides this, by a 
summary process the evidence of Christianity was rejected : foi 
It was argued that there could be no doubtfulness in the evi- 
dence of a genuine revelation, and as it was claimed that Chris- 
7 .anily was deficient in this particular, the testimonies for ita 
truth were dismissed without a hearing. Into such a sortro 


LIFE OF BISHOP BUTLEB. 


STl 

versy d 3 this, Butler could not fail to enter with all his soui 
and yet, as lias been well remarked, his book has nothing of a 
controversial tone. He vindicates the truths both of natural 
religion and of Christianity, by showing that they are paralleled 
oy the facts of our experience ; and that nature, considered as 
a revelation of God, teaches (though to a more limited extent, 
and in a more imperfect way) the same lessons as the Scriptures 
He proves that the evidence is the same as that upon which we 
Ect in our temporal concerns ; and that perhaps it is left as it 
is, that our behaviour with regard to it may be part of our pro- 
bation for a future life. 

Nor does the aim of the Analogy stop here. The opinion 
has very extensively prevailed, that the utility of the work con- 
sists solely in answering such objections as those above described. 
Dr. Reid, the Scotch philosopher, has so expressed himself. 
Of a like purport is the happily conceived language of Dr. 
Campbell : Analogical evidence is generally more successful 
in silencing objections, than in evincing truth. Though it 
rarely refutes, it frequently repels refutation ; like those wea- 
pons, which, though they cannot kill the enemy, will ward his 
blows. The outward form of the Analogy, to be sure, gives 
some countenance to this view; for the objector is followed 
through all the mazes of his error. But, besides the effect of 
particular analogies, there is the effect of the Analogy as a 
whole; of the likeness so beautifully developed between the 
system of nature, and the system of grace. Every one who 
has received the total impression of the argument, is conscious 
that he has derived therefrom new convictions of the truth of 
religion, and that these convictions rest on a basis peculiarly 
their own. On this point, Butler’s own language is quite defi- 
nite : This treatise will be, to such as are convinced of religion, 
upon the proof arising out of the two last-mentioned principles, 
[liberty and moral fitness,] an additional proof, and a confirma- 
tion of it; such as do not admit those principles, an original 
proof of it, and a con6rmation of that proof Those who bo- 


T.IFE OF BISHOP BUTLER. 




lleve, will here find the scheme of Christianity cleared of objeo 
tions, and the evidence of it in a peculiar manner strengthened ; 
those who do not believe, will at least be shown the absurdity 
of all attempts to prove Christianity false, the plain, undoubted 
credibility of it, and, I hope, a good deal more.^^ — Part II.^ 
chap. viii. 

It is not contended that all the analogies are alike striking ; 
ome are of a negative kind, designed to silence objections; 
others again are adduced with a view to raising a positive pre- 
sumption for the points on which they bear. But we humbly 
submit, that the whole result is positive, and not merely the 
bringing of the evidence from minus up to zero. Neither does 
it make against the Analogy, that the resemblance between the 
course of nature and Christianity is not shown in more nume- 
rous particulars; for Butler well says, we have no reason to 
believe “ that the whole course of things naturally unknown to 
us, and every thing in it, is like to any thing in that which is 
known/' — Part II., chap. ii. This would be to seek an iden 
tity of fact, where we should only look for an identity of prin- 
ciple. 

This work was the favourite study of Queen Caroline. Her 
partiality for it was the occasion of the following sneer of Lord 
Bolingbroke’s : She studies," says he, with much applica- 
tion, the ^Analogy of Bevealed Beligion to the Constitution 
and Course of Nature.' She understands the whole argument 
perfectly, and concludes, with the right reverend author, that it 
is not ^ so clear a case, that there is nothing in revealed religion.' 
Such royal, such lucrative encouragement must needs keep both 
metaphysics and the sublimest theology in credit." But the 
Tery year after the publication of the Analogy the Queen died. 
Before her death, however, she earnestly commended Butler to 
the patronage of her husband, George II.; so that, in 1788. 
upon the translation of Dr. Gooch from the -^ee of Bristol to 
that of Norwich, the Bishopric of Bristol waj giver > Butler 
!♦ 


xviii 


T.IFE OP BISHOP BUTLER. 


Bristol was the poorest of the English sees, the revenues being 
out £400 per annum, and Gooch’s claims are said to have been 
far inferior to those of the author of the Analogy. Butler, 
though a modest man, was by no means destitute of spirit ; and 
in the letter to Walpole, in which he acknowledged and accepted 
his appointment, he resented, in strong terms, the slight which 
it implied. The effect of his remonstrance was soon perceived ; 
for in 1740, the king nominated him to the Deanery of St. 
Paul’s, London. Immediately upon obtaining this promotion, he 
resigned his living at Stanhope, which he had till then retained, 
Mid his prebendary stall at Rochestei . 

The large revenues of the Deanery of St. Paul’s enabled him 
to gratify his taste for building and ornament. He is said to 
have expended, in improving the episcopal palace at Bristol, 
between four and five thousand pounds, a greater sum than he 
received from the Bishopric djiing the whole period of his 
incumbency. To assist in what was to him a labour of love, 
the merchants of that city presented him with a large quantity 
of cedar. In altering the private chapel, he placed (as already 
stated) a white marble cross over the communion table. This 
unfortunate step not only occasioned scandal at the time, but 
gave plausibility to the charge of a leaning towards Popery, 
which was made in the latter part of his life, and after his death. 
The cross remained in its place until the destruction of the 
palace by a mob, in 1831. 

In 1746 he was made clerk to the closet of George II. In 
1747, upon the decease of Archbishop Potter, he was offered 
the Primacy, but refused it, declaring, “ that it was too late for 
him to try to support a falling Church.” He took a gloomy 
view of the prospects of the Establishment. His relations at 
Wantage wished very much to see him elevated to that high dig- 
nity ; and one of his nephews, supposing that his uncle’s refusal 
grew out of a fear of the heavy expenses to bo incurred at hia 
3!itrance upon the office, offered to advance £20,000, or any 
jther sum which might be thought necessary. He was exceed 


LIFE OP BISHOP BUTLER. 


XiX 

tngly dissatisfied when he found the Bishop^s purpose was not 
to be altered. 

The see of Durham becoming vacant in 1750, by the decease 
cf Dr. Edward Chandler, the king was desirous of advancing 
Butler to it. When, however, Butler understood that the lieu- 
tenancy of the county, which had usually gone with the Bishop- 
ric, was about to be separated from it, he at first declined the 
honour. He appears to have been unwilling that the see should 
lose a single one of its established dignities. Out of regard to 
his feelings in this particular, the proposed change was deferred 
until the next vacancy. Another instance of his delicacy of 
feeling in this connection is given by the present Bishop of 
Exeter. On his translation, the Deanery of St. Paul’s was 
to be vacated. The minister wished to give it to Butler’s oldest 
and best friend. Seeker, who held a stall at Durham, which, in 
that case, it was proposed that the Crown should give to Dr. 
Chapman. Unfortunately, the arrangement was mentioned to 
Butler before he was translated; and highly gratifying as it 
would have been to him for Seeker’s sake, his conscience took 
the alarm, lest it should bear even the semblance of a condition 
of his own promotion. He for some time hesitated, in conse- 
quence, to accept the splendid station, which solicited him ; nor 
did he yield till his scruple respecting all possible notion of con- 
dition was removed.^^ 

What his feelings were upon this accession of honour and 
fortune, is shown in the following extract from a letter to a 
friend — 

Increase of fortune is insignificant to one who thought he had 
enough before; and I foresee many difficulties in the station I am 
coming into, and no advantage worth thinking of, except some greater 
power of being serviceable to others ; and whether this be an advan- 
tage, entirely depends on the use one shall make of it: I pray God it 
may be a good one. It would be a melancholy thing, in the closo of 
life, to have no reflections to entertain one’s self with, but that one 
aad spent the revenues of the Bishopric of Durham, in a sumptuous 
course of living, and enriched one’s friends with the piomotions of iti 


XX 


LIFE OF BISHOP BUTLER. 


instead of having really set one’s self to do good, and promote worthj 
men ; yet this right use of fortune and power is more difficult than 
the generality of even good people think, and requires both a guard 
upon one’s self, and a strength of mind to withstand solicitations, 
greater, I wish I may not find it, Ifiian I am master of.” 

In the year 1750, Bishop Butler drew up a plan for intra- 
i dicing Episcopacy into America. Up to this time, and after 
trards, the Established Church, in the English Colcnies, wa* 
under the charge of the Bishop of London, through whose com- 
missaries its affairs were managed. As this plan of Butler's is 
highly illustrative of the wisdom and moderation of his cha- 
racter, we subjoin it entire : — 

“ 1. That no coercive power is desired over the laity in any case, 
but onlj’’ a power to regulate the behaviour of the clergy, who are in 
episcopal orders ; and to correct and punish them according to the 
laws of the Church of England, in case of misbehaviour or neglect of 
duty, with such power as the commissioners abroad have exercised. 

“ 2 That nothing is desired for such Bishops, that may in the least 
interfere with the dignity, or authority, or interest of the Governor 
or any other officer of state. Probates of will, license for marriages, 
&c., to be kept in the hands where they are ; and no share in the tem- 
poral government is desired for Bishops. 

“ 3. The maintenance of such Bishops not to be at the charge of the 
colonies. 

“4. No Bishops are intended to be settled, where the government 
is left in the hands of Dissenters, as in New England, &c. But 
authority to be given only to ordain clergy for such Church of Eng- 
land congregations as are among them, and to inspect into the 
manners and behaviour of such clergy, and to confirm the members 
thereof.” 

This plan .awakened so much opposition among those foi 
whom it was intended, and particularly in New England, that, 
though revived again as late as 1763, it was finally abandoned. 

Shortly after his arrival in his diocese, Butler addressed to his 
filjrgy a charge upon the ^^Use and Importance of External 
Eeli^on." Alas ! it was the only one he was permitted to do 


LIFE OF BISHOP BUTLER 


XXI 


liver as BisLop of Durham. This charge, though full of excel- 
lent advices to the clergy, yet contains some statements which 
are liable to be misunderstood. Indeed, it may be doubted^ 
whether its fundamental idea is not a mistaken one. After 
stating, that the distinction of the age was a scorn of religion 
in some persons, and a disregard of it in the generality,^ ^ he 
proceeds to give some directions upon the best means of reviving 
piety among the common people. These he conceives to be : 
Hhe keeping up the form and face of religion,'^ and then 
endeavouring to make this form subservient to promote its 
reality and power.^^ The repairing of churches, the regular at- 
tendance upon Divine service, uniformity in public and private 
prayer, the offering of thanks at meals, the catechism and in- 
struction of children, etc., are the several steps of this process 
proposed. He fortifies his assertion of the power of forms, by 
instancing the influence of the forms of Mohammedanism, of 
Catholicism, and of the old ritual of the Jews. We humbly 
conceive that when practical piety is dying away in a nation, 
the effort to resuscitate it by a renewed devotion to external re- 
ligion, is simply beginning at the end. The form is the symbol 
of an inward feeling and life ; and when the internal correspon- 
dent is gone, a more rigid observance of the form may product 
superstition, but it can effect no good,-^it cannot awaken the 
dead. That Mohammedanism, whose power Butler cites, gained 
its triumphs over Christianity, and seized the time-honoured 
seats of our faith, because the Fathers, by unwisely teaching a 
ritual religion first, and a spiritual one afterwards, had made 
the Church superstitious in doctrine, corrupt in practice, and 
feeble to resist the inroads of error. John Wesley, a presbyter 
of the Church of England, was a contemporary of Butler’s : ho 
saw the lamentable irreligion of the common people, and de- 
plored it as deeply as the Bishop himself ; and, with his pecu- 
liar sagacity, he discerned that the evil was only to be remedied 
by an earnest, spiritual preaching, addressed to them in a stylo 
iuitod to their capacities and wants. In the year 1750, the 


XXll 


LIFE OF BISHOP BUTLER. 


period ot Butlar’s accession to the See of Durham, he haa 
already been engaged eleven years in his career of mingled 
obloquy and triumph. His success is a matter of history. The 
parish churches were filled with hearers, and their altars were 
crowded with communicants, who, having been aroused to a 
sense of their duty by his appeals, hastened to render their obo 
dience to the outward service and ritual of the Church. And 
ill this was the least of the fruit of his labours. 

From the time of the publication of this discourse, until some 
years after his death, Butler was violently assailed in pamphlets 
and newspapers, as addicted to superstition, as inclined to Po- 
pery ; and finally, as dying in the communion of the Church of 
Rome. The acrimony of these assaults is undoubtedly to be 
attributed to the violence of party spirit. Butler’s detestation 
of Popery is strongly enough expressed in his works and the 
charge itself was the offspring of a pure desire to promote a 
revival of the vital spirit of religion in England. It can only 
be objected against, as proposing means the most unsuitable ol 
all for accomplishing this end. 

His life at Durham exhibits the same tastes and habits which 
have been described in the preceding pages. Having now a 
magnificent income, he made extensive repairs in Durham Cas- 
tle, and greatly improved the episcopal residence at Auckland. 
At the same time he gave still wider scope to his almost un 
bounded benevolence. He is said to have subscribed £400 pei 
annum to the county hospital. Considering it his duty to sup- 
port the dignity of his station with liberality, he set apart three 
days of every week for the entertainment of the neighbouring 
gentry. He was likewise exceedingly attentive to his clerical 
brethren. The following incident shows his benevolence in a 
very pleasing light : — 


* S6e the Sermon before the House of Lords, and the remarks cs 
powfcjve institutions, Analogy, part IL, (hap. i. 


LIFE OP BISHOP BUTLER. 


XXllj 


*‘ A gentleman once waited upon him with the details of some pro 
jected benevolent institution. The bishop highly aj^proved of thi 
object in view, and calling his house-steward, inquired how much 
money he then had in his possession. The answer was : ‘ Five hun- 
dred pounds, my lord.’ ‘ Five hundred pounds !’ exclaimed his mas- 
ter ; ‘ What a shame for a bishop to have so much money ! Give it 
away ; give it all to this gentleman, for his charitable plan.’ ” — Bart- 
fei/, p 196. 

He once declared to his under-secretary, Mr. Emm: — “1 
ehould feel ashamed of myself, if I could leave ten thousand 
pounds behind me.'^ And in this he kept his word; he died 
worth but little over nine thousand. We believe this sum was 
not quite half his annual income. But though liberal in dis- 
pensing the hospitalities of his station, he was exceedingly sim- 
ple in his private habits. It is related, that a young gentleman 
of fortune once dined by appointment with him, and the table 
was set out with nothing more than a joint of meat and a pud- 
ding. The bishop apologized for his fare, by saying, That it 
was his way of living; that he had been long disgusted with 
the fashionable expense of time and money at entertainments, 
and was determined that it should receive no countenance from 
his example. '' 

He was rigidly honest in distributing his patronage. It was 
his desire to prefer worthy and capable men to benefices in his 
^ift ; but the sudden termination of his life prevented him from 
carrying out his purposes, in this respect, to any great extent. 
He did not suffer the claims of relationship to warp his impar- 
tiality. His eccentric nephew, John Butler, in expressing his 
iisappointment, that the bishop had done so little for his family, 
is reported to have said very bluntly, — “ Methinks, my lord, 
■f is a misfortune to be related to you 

But, as if to give another proof of the vanity of all earthly 
hings, two years had scarcely elapsed after the settlement of 
.he bishop in the See of Durham, when his health began to fail 
the advice of the most eminent physicians, he at first tried 


XXIV 


LIFE OF BISHOP BUTLER. 


the watcis of Clifton : but these affording no relief, he was ccn 
vcyedf in a sinking condition, to Bath. Here he was constantlj 
attended by his chaplain Hr. Forster^ and was visited by his 
friend. Bishop Benson. Seeker was himself just recovering from 
illness, and could not safely travel. From Hr. Forster^s fre- 
quent letters to Seeker, we have a full account of Butler’s last 
hours. In one of these, he writes: ^^All his physicians seem 
•0 be clear that his disorder is owing to some obstructions in tha 
organs of digestion, without being able to tell where the fault 
principally lies. They say, however, that he is so weak at pre- 
sent, that any attempt to remove these obstructions as yet, would 
De death to him.” Benson, the day after Butler’s death, writes 
to Seeker on this point more definitely : — “ The liver, by the 
account which the physicians gave, was so much decayed that 
no art was capable of restoring it ; and nothing but the forma- 
tion of a new organ could restore him.” His weakness was so 
great, that during these closing scenes he spoke but little. In 
parting with Benson, he remarked, says the Bishop, It must 
be a farewell for ever ; and said kind and affecting things more 
than I could bear.” After lingering thus twelve days, he died, 
June 16th, 1752, in the 60th year of his age. Tradition reports 
several expressions, as being among the dying words of Butler, 
all going to show that he expired with an humble trust in the 
Saviour; but as these, though perhaps founded upon truth, are 
not substantiated by any direct evidence, they are here omitted. 

On Saturday, June 20th, he was interred in the cathedral at 
Bristol. Over his remains there was placed a marble stone, 
with an inscription by Hr. Forster. In the year 1834, an ele* 
gant monument was erected, by subscription, in Bristol cathe 
dral, to his memory. Part of the funds for this purpose was 
contributed by Oriel College, as a testimonial of their reverence 
for the memory of the eminent scholar, and divine, who had 
gone forth from their midst. A beautiful inscription was fur» 
nished for this monument by Hr. Southey. Three portraits of 
Butler were taken while he lived : the first during his residence 


LIFE OF BISHOP BUTLER: 




at Stanhope, in the fortieth year of his age; the second shortly 
after he was made Bishop of Bristol ; and the last, not long 
before his death, when his body was aljready beginning to sink 
under the attacks of disease. The engravings from the first 
likeness show a calm and benignant countenance, regular and 
delicate features, with a sweetness of expression shining through* 
out, which hardly could have failed to win attachment and love. 
The following descriptions will assist us in conceiving his per- 
sonal appearance in the latter part of his lifi. The first is from 
Hutchinson^s History of Durham, and the second from Surtees’ 
account of the same place : — 

“ He was of a most reverend aspect: his face thin and pale; but 
there was a Divine placidness in his countenance, which inspired vene- 
ration, and expressed the most benevolent mind. His white hair hung 
gracefully on his shoulders, and his whole figure was patriarchal.” 

“ During the short time that Butler held the See of Durham, he 
conciliated all hearts. In advanced years, and on the episcopal throne, 
he retained the same genuine modesty, and native sweetness of de- 
position, which had distinguished him in youth and in retirement. 
During the ministerial performance of the sacred oflace, a Divine an.- 
mation seemed to pervade his whole manner, and lighted up his pal «, 
wan countenance, already marked with the progress of disease, like a 
torch glimmering in its socket, yet bright and useful to the last I” 

He was regular in his attendance upon Parliament, but ne\ ;r 
spoke in the House of Lords. This fact led Horace Walpc ie 
to say, that the Bishop of Durham had been wafted to tb, it 
SCO in a cloud of metaphysics, and remained absorbed in it !” 

Such was Butler. His pure, transparent character needs nc 
elaborate summary. His was not one of those close, hidden 
natures, which elude and perplex us after the most searching 
study. The marks of truth and goodness here are so plain, that 
he who runs can read them. He was no illustration of Bacon’s 
sphorism, that ^^The way to great place is by a winding stair.” 
No crooked courses, nor time-serving, nor dancing attendance 
upon the great, brought him to eminence. His dignities were 


XXVI 


LIFE OF BISHOP BUTLER. 


thrust upon him. It does not in our land (saving as a proof of 
the esteem of his contemporaries) heighten our regard, to knon 
that he was invested with the lordly honours of an English See» 
All that was the transitory, the outward decking, which in 
itself has no lustre. But his scrupulous conscientiousness, hia 
sincerity of purpose, his honesty of action, his life-long endea- 
vours to do good, — these are the abiding, the immortal, and 
stamp him infallibly as a true man. 

His position in Theology has been compared with that of 
Bacon in Philosophy. Both relied upon observation for the dis- 
covery of truth; both strenuously opposed hasty theorizing; 
both rested their systems upon the sure gi-ound of fact. Indeed, 
analogy and induction involve similar mental operations. In 
those departments of inquiry, to which his attention was chiefly 
directed, Butler enjoys the good fortune to have written nothing 
which is yet cast aside as error ; with the lapse of time, men^a 
confidence in his views has increased. His influence upon the 
thinking world has been deep and wide; for he has spoken 
through others, as well as in his own person. His friend Seeker, 
in his own day, popularized him ; Paley has translated him in 
his admirably executed Evidences; Chalmers has gloried in 
being his expounder; and our Wayland has acknowledged him 
as the principal source of his theory of Ethics. If any judg- 
ment can be formed from the variety of editions issued, his 
works are more read now than ever. 

He has reared for himself an enduring monument. John 
Wesley, long ago, said, “that the Analogy was too deep for 
the men for whom it was written ; for he had found that free- 
thinkers were not usually close thinkers.' ' It has, how’iver, 
proved a precious legacy to the Church: for often the very 
objections which are boastfully urged by the sceptic, afflict and 
distress the believer’s heart. To him, these unanswerable re& 
sonings are then a help and relief, to clear his vision, to quiet 
his doubts, to animate and strengthen his fondest hopes. 


ANALYSIS 

O F 

BUTLER’S ANALOGY. 




\ 


ANALYSIS. 


INTRODUCTION. 

1. Analogical reasoning in general. (Pp. 83-85.) 

1. Nature. (Pp. 83, 84.) 

2. Use. (P. 84.) 

3. Value. (Pp. 84, 85.) 

n Application of it to religion. (Pp. 86-90.) 

1. Propriety of such application. (P. 86.) 

2. Snperiority of this mode of argument to hypothesis antf 
speculation, (Pp. 86-80.) 

3. Method of the argument. (Pp. 89, 90.) 


? ylnalogical reasoning in general. (Pp. 83-85.) 

1. Nature. (Pp. 83, 84.) 

Probable evidence, as distinguished from demonstrative, ad 
mits of degrees. The foundation of probability is verisimiU 
tude, i. e. likeness to some truth, or true event ; and according 
to the degree of likeness, there is produced either a presump- 
tion, or an opinion, or full conviction. 

2. Use. (P. 84.) 

Probable evidence is relative only to beings of limited capa- 
city, since nothing which is the possible object of knowledge 
can be probable to an infinite intelligence. 

8. Value. (Pp. 84, 85.) 

To us, probability is the very guide of life. Even in specula- 
tion, we have to decide for that side, on which lies the greater 
presumption; and \n practice, we are bound, in point of pru- 
dence, to act on still lower presumptions ; yea, often even 
where the chance is greatly against our succeeding. This 
general way of arguing then, is evidently natural, just, and 
conclusive. 

11 Application of analogical reasonirg to religion. (Pp. 86-90.) 

1 Propriety of such application. (P. 86.) 

2 * 


(xxix) 


zk:l 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLER^S ANALOGY. 


If tke S-cripture and the constitution of nature have the same 
An thor, we may expect to find the same sort of difficulties in 
both; therefore such difficulties no more prove the former 
not to be from God than the latter. An Author of Nature 
being supposed, an analogy or likeness between the system 
of revelation and the known course of nature, affords a pre- 
sumption that they have the same author; and furnishes an 
answer to such objections against the former’s being from 
God, as would lie equally against the latter. 

Superiority of this mode of argument to hypothesis and speO' 
Illation. (Pp. 86-89.) 

To form our notions of the constitution and government of 
the world upon reasoning, without foundation for our princi- 
ples, or upon reasoning from principles which are certain, but 
applied to cases to which we have no ground to apply them, 
are kindred errors. But it is just to argue from known facts 
to such as are like them, — from what now is to what shall 
be, — from what we see, to what lies beyond us. We ought 
not to speculate how the world might have been, or ought to 
have been framed otherwise than it is ; for we have not the 
requisite faculties for such speculations. If we must con- 
clude, that the ultimate end designed is the most virtue and 
happiness possible, yet we cannot judge what are the neces- 
sary means of accomplishing this end 
8 Method of the argument. (Pp. 89 -90.) 

We ought to observe how the teachings of religion correspond 
with the known constitution and course of nature. This anal- 
ogy will amount, 'n ..omc few instances, to a practical proof; 
and where it does not, it will still be a confirmation of what 
is proved in other ways — will show that religion is not a sub- 
ject of ridicule, unless nature be so too, and will afford an 
answer to almost all objections against the system of religion, 
and, in a very considerable degree, to the objections agains* 
the evidence of it. It is proposed, therefore, in this treatise, 
to show that the particular parts principally objected against 
in natural and revealed religion, are analogous to the constitu- 
tion and course of nature ; and that this argument is of weight 
on the side of religion, notwithstanding any objections which 
may seem to lie against it, and any difference of opinion re- 
epooting the d^ffree of its weight. 


ANALYSIS OF SUTLER'S ANALOGY 


ZZX} 


PART I. 

NATURAL RELIGION. 

OUTLINE. 

. \HE PLAN OF NATURAL RELIGION. Chaps. 1-5. 

U Thai’ Mankind ake appointed to live in a Future Statu 

Chap. 1. 

i . That thebe every one shall be Rewarded or Punished. 

Chap. 2. 

Rewarded or Punished, as Virtuous or Vicious. Chap. 3 

4. That our Present Life is a Probation fob that Futubi 
one. Chaps. 4, 5. 

(1.) A Probation implying Trial, Difficulties, and Dan- 
ger. Chap. 4. 

(2.) A Probation intended for Moral Discipline. Chap. 5. 

(3.) A Probation intended for the Manifestation of Per- 
sons’ Characters to the Creation. Close of Chap. 5 

II OBJECTIONS TO THE PLAN ANSWERED. Chaps. 6, 7. 

1. Objections to its Existence. Chap. 6. 

2. Objections to its Wisdom and Goodness Ch«p. 7o 


11. CONCLUSION, 


IXXll 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLEil'S ANALOGY. 


1 . THE PLAN OF NATURAL RELIGION. Chaps. 1-5. 

1. That Mankind are appointed to live in a Futurb Statb. 
Chap. 1. 


1. It is a general law of nature, that the same creatures should exist 
in degrees of life and perception, in one period of their being, 
greatly different from those of another period. Why then may 
we not exist hereafter, in a state as different from the present, 
as this is from our former? (Pp. 91, 92.) 

\I The possession of living powers now, is a presumption that they 
will exist hereafter, unless there is reason to believe that they 
will be destroyed by death. (Pp. 92-104.) But there is none 
For there is no ground to believe death to be 
(I.) Either the destruction of living agents. (Pp. 93-101.) 

(II.) Or the destruction of their jom'eni powers of reflection 
(Pp. 101, 102.) 

(III.) Or even the suspension of the exercise of those powers 
(Pp. 102-104.) And 

(I.) There is no ground to believe death to be the destruction 
of living agents: either 

1. From the reason of the thing;— for we know not what 
death is, but only some of its effects, nor what our living 
powers depend upon. (P. 94.) 

2 Or from the analogy of nature ; — for we cannot trace 
animals after death, and up to that time, the analogy is 
against the destruction of their living powers. (P. 94.) 

d. Or from imaginary presumptions to that effect, arising from 
early and lasting prejudices. Because 
1.) They go on the supposition that living beings are com- 
pounded, and so discerptible; which is not the case — 
for consciousness being simple and indivisible, so must 
be the conscious being. And, therefore, our organized 
bodies are no part of ourselves, and their dissolution is 
not our destruction. (Pp. 95-96.) 

(2.) The same conclusion may be deduced, from observing 
that men inaj' lose their limbs, their senses, and even 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLER'S ANALOGY. 


XXXI ‘1 


the greatest part of their bodies, that the bodies of 
all animals are undergoing a constant change, and yet 
each living agent remains the same being. (Pp. 96, 
97.) 

‘ A. More particular statement of the argument. (Pp. 97-100.) 

a. Unless the living being is larger than the solid elemen* 
tary particles of matter, which there is no ground to 
think any natural power can dissolve, there is no reason 
to think death a dissolution of it, though it is not abso- 
lutely indiscerptible. (P. 97.) 

b. As the dissolution of matter in which we are nearly 
interested, (e. g. our flesh and bones,) is not our disso- 
lution ; so we have no ground to think that the dissolu- 
tion of any other matter will be our dissolution, from 
the like kind of relation. (Pp. 97, 98.) 

c. The same conclusion is reached, if we consider our body 
as made up of organs and instruments of perception and 
motion. An eye, for example, bears the same relation to 
us, in kind, though not in degree, as a microscope, and 
there is no more reason to suppose that the living agent 
is destroyed by the loss of the one than of the other. 
And so of all the other organs of the body. (Pp 98- 
100 .) 

B Objection answered. (Pp. 100, 101.) 

If it be objected that these observations would go to prove 
brutes immortal, and capable of everlasting happiness, 
it may be answered, 

a. If it were even implied, in the natural immortality of 
brutes, that they must become rational and moral agents, 
this would be no difiiculty, since we know not what 
latent capacities they may be endowed with. (P. 100.) 

b. But the natural immortality of brutes does not, in the 
least, imply that they are endowed with any latent capa- 
cities of a rational or moral nature. 

All difficulties, in short, as to how they are to be dis • 
posed of, are founded in our ignorance. (Pp. 100, 101.) 
ai.) There is no reason to believe death to be the destructioc 

of the pres&nt powers of reflection. (Pp. 101, 102.) 

Because, it does not appear that the gross body is nece> 

gary to thinking ; to our intellectual enioyments or suffer 


£XXIV ANALYSIS OP BUTLER'S ANALOGY. 

ings: — If our bodies and our present reflecting powen 
mutually afiFect each other, this, as has been already shoTrn, 
affords no presumption that the dissolution of the one is 
the destruction of the other; while the fact, that there 
are instances of their not affecting each other, (as in those 
mortal diseases, which leave the mind unimpaired tc the 
last,) affords a presumption of the contrary. 

(HI.) There is no ground to believe death to be even the suspen- 
sion of the exercise of the present powers of reflection; 
for the same reasons as under preceding. Death may, in 
some sort, answer to our birth: and like it, instead of 
being the suspension of our faculties it may put us into a 
higher and more enlarged state of life. (Pp. 102-104.) 
(Remark. — The destruction of a vegetable not analo- 
gous to that of a living agent, because it lacks the power 
of perception and action, the only thing we are inquiring 
about the continuance of.) 

Conclusion. — As death does not appear likely to destroy us, it is 
probable we shall live on ; and the next life may be a^ natural as 
this present. This credibility of a future life seems to answer all 
the purposes of religion, in like manner as a demonstrative proof. 
Indeed a demonstrative proof of it would not be a proof of religion, 
though any presumption against a future life is a presumption 
against religion. (Pp. 104-106.) 


2. Th.\t in that Future State every one shall be Rewaxds» 
OR Punished. Chap. 2. 

L Of Rewards and Punishments in general. (Pp. 107-111.) 

II. Of Punishment in particular. (Pp. 112-116.) 


I. Of Rewards and Punishments in general. 

(t.) Importance of the inquiry. — It makes the question of s 
future life more intensely interesting. (P. 107.) 

(II ) Argument. — In the present state, pleasure and pain ar« the 
consequences of our actions; and we are endued by thf 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLER'S ANALOGY. 


XXXY 


author of our nature with capacities of foreseeing these con* 
sequences. (Pp. 107, 108.) 

(Ill ) Objections. 

1. To the wisdom and goodness of this constitution, 

.. Why does not the Author of Nature make his creatures 
happy without the instrumentality of their own actions, 
and prevent their bringing any suflferiug upon themselves?” 
(P. 108.) 

Answer : — 

(1.) It may be impossible, or 
(2.) It might produce less happiness, or 
(3.) Divine goodness may be a disposition to make onljf 
the good happy, or 

(4-) The end of God’s government may be beyond the 
reach of our faculties. 

(6.) However we may explain it, the fact itself cannot be 
questioned, that God does thus govern us. (P. 109.) 

2 . “ All this is to be ascribed to the general course of na^ 
ture.” 

Answer. — Yes; but a course of nature implies an opera- 
ting agent. God’s acting uniformly is no proof that he 
does not act at all. (P. 109.) 

8. “ The argument would seem to prove, that the pleasure 
naturally accompanying every particular gratification of 
passion, was intended to put us upon gratifying ourselves 
in every such particular instance, and as a reward to us 
for so doing.” 

Answer. — As it is obvious that eyes were intended for 
seeing, though there may be some things on which wo 
ought not to look, so the foreseen pleasures and pains be- 
longing to the passions were intended, in general^ to induco 
mankind to act in such and such manners. (P. 110.) 

) Conclusion. 

From the fact that God has given us to understand, that hi 
has appointed pleasure to be the consequenee of one course 
of action, and pain of another, and from our finding suck 
consequences uniformly to follow, we learn ttat we are at 
present actually under his government ; i. e. that he rewards 
and punishes us for our actions. It matters not whether 
such consequences are brought about by his continued action, 
or by virtue of the original constitution of things, which hi 


XIXVl 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLER'S ANALOGY. 


has established. Nor does it affect the question, that iiieu maj 
ridicule the thought of lesser pains being considered as in- 
stances of divine punishment, for this cannot be denied, with- 
out denying all final causes. If then it be true, that God is 
now actually exercising that government over us, which 
implies rewarding and punishing, there is nothing incredible 
in supposing that he will reward and punish men hereafter. 

(Pp. no, in.', 

n Of punishment in particular. (Pp. 112-116.) 

(I.) Reason for considering this separately. — It is most objected 
against. (P. 112.) 

' (il: Circumstances in natural punishments analogous to what 
religion teaches of future punishments. (Pp. 112-115.) 

1. They often follow actions which are accompanied with 
much present pleasure. 

2. They are often much greater than the pleasure. 

3. Their delay is no presumption of final impunity. 

4. After such delay, they often come suddenly. 

5. They come, though men may not have a distinct, full ex- 
pectation of them: e. g. though thoughtless youth may 
not consider, or even believe beforehand, the consequences 
of rashness and folly, yet this does not prevent them from 
following. 

6. Opportunities once neglected may never be recalled. 

7. The consequences of folly and extravagance are often irre 
trievable. 

8. Neglects are often attended with consequences altogether 
ns dreadful as any active misbehaviour. 

9. Many natural punishments are final to him who inv,urB 
them, e. g. capital punishments under civil government, 
and mortal diseases brought on by a dissolute life. 

These circumstances are things of every day’s experience, 
and are so analogous to what religion teaches us concerning 
future punishment, that the same words may be applied to 
both, e. g. the address of Wisdom in the first chapter of 
Proverbs. (Pp. 114, 116.) 

♦m ) Value of this analogy. (Pp. 116, 116.) 

It is sufficient to show what the laws of the universe may 
admit, and to answer objections against the credibility of 
ft future state of punishment, drawn from the frailty of 
i our nature and exter'ial temptations, from necessity, &nr 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLER'S ANALOGY. 


xxxvii 


from suppositions that the will of an infinite being cannoi 
be contradicted, or that he oannot be offended or provoked. 

2. It is adapted to impress even the most serious, much more 
ought it to alarm those who exhibit a fearlessness of the 
future, which nothing could justify, but a universally ao 
knowledged demonstration of atheism. 


8, That in the Future State, Men shall be Rewarded ob 
Punished, ah Virtuous or Vicious. Chap. 3. 


k. Preliminaries. (Pp. 117-119.) 

tl.) Definitions . — Final canses i^toyq ojo. inielliffent Creator. The 
particular final causes, pleasure and pain, prove him an in- 
telligent Governor. If the pleasure and pain be distributed 
according to the virtue or vice of his subjects, this would 
prove him a moral or righteous Governor. And if this were 
done, with regard to all intelligent creatures, in exact pro- 
portion to their personal merits or demerits, then the moral 
government would be perfect. 

(II.) Mistaken view of the Deity. 

It is a mistake to suppose the only character of God to be 
that of simple, absolute benevolence. Though there may 
possibly be beings in the creation, to whom he manifests 
himself under that character, yet he has given us proof, in 
the constitution and conduct of the world, that for us he is 
a Governor (Chap. 2.), and it maybe that we shall find there 
also, clear and distinct indications that he is a moral Gover- 
nor. 

(III.) The divine government which we are under in the present 
state, taken alone, is admitted not to be perfect in degree. Yet 
it may still be moral in kind. 

T. Design of this chapter. 

It is, to inquire how far the principles and beginnings of a moral 
government over the world may be discerned, notwithstanding 
and amidst all the confusion and disorder of it. (Pp. 119-184.) 
3 


xixviii ANALYSIS OF BUTLER’S ANALOGY 

The common argument, that we have an instance of an existing 
moral government, in the fact that in general less uneasiness and 
more satisfaction are the natural consequences of a virtuous than 
of a vicious course of life, in the present state, is not insisted on 
here ; because it is difficult to weigh pleasures and uneasinesses, 
so as to estimate the overplus of happiness on the side of virtue. 
Amidst the infinite disorders of the world, there may be excep- 
tions to the happiness of virtue, even with regard to those who 
have been blameless from their youth up ; much more in regard 
to those who have reformed after a long career of vice. But 
though it is not doubtful whether virtue, upon the whole, is hap- 
pier than vice ; yet if it were, the beginnings of a righteous 
administration may, beyond all question, be found in nature. 
(Pp. 119, 120.) For 

(I.) As it is matter of experience that God does govern us by the. 
method of rewards and punishments, it is more natural for 
us to suppose that he will finally reward or punish us accord- 
ing as we are virtuous or vicious, than by any other rule 
(Pp. 120, 121.) 

ill.) Some sort of moral government is implied in the fact that 
such is the constitution of things, that prudence and impru- 
dence, (which are of the nature of virtue and vice,) are 
respectively rewarded and punished. (P. 121.) 

(III.) Society being a natural institution, the punishments which 
are inflicted on the vicious as mischievous to society, as well 
as those which they suffer from fear of detection, afford an 
instance of a kind of moral government actually taking place. 
(Pp. 121, 122.) 

Objection. — “ Good and beneficial actions are often punished, 
and mischievous actions rewarded.” 

Answer : 

1. This is not necessary, and consequently not natural. 

2. Good actions are never punished, considered as beneficial^ 
nor ill actions rewarded, as mischievous. (P. 122.) 

(IV.) We have an instance of moral government begun and estab« 
lished, in the fact that, in the natural course of things, vii^ 
tue as such is rewarded, and vice as such punished. (Pp. 122- 
128.) 

1. Evidence of the fact. (Pp. 122-125.) 

(1.) In the good and bad effects of virtue and vice on men'i 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLER S ANALOGY. 


XX511 


own minds. Besides the efifect of an action, abstracted 
from all consideration of its morality, there is an effect 
produced by its virtuousness or viciousness. Vice, as 
such, produces uneasiness, and virtue, as such, procures 
peace and satisfaction. To which may be added the 
fears of future punishment, and the hopes of a better 
life, which are matter of present uneasiness and satis- 
faction. (Pp. 123, 124.) 

(2.) In men’s disposition to befriend virtue, as such, and 
£0 discountenance vice, as such, in others: instances 
of which we have in the operations of public opinion, 
and in domestic and civil government, both of which 
are natural. (Pp. 124, 125.) 

2. Causes of this course of things. (Pp. 126-128.) 

(1.) The moral nature which God has given us. 

(2.) His having given us, together with this nature, so 
great a power over each others’ happiness and misery. 
In this constitution of things we have a declaratioi 
of the Author of Nature, for virtue and against vico 
#V ) There is, in the nature of things, a tendency in virtue and 
vice to produce their good and bad effeets in a greater degree 
than they do in fact produce them ; and this is an instance 
of somewhat moral in the constitution ot nature. (Pp. 128- 
134.) 

1. In individuals, these tendencies are obvious. 

2. In society, too, power under the direction of virtue has a 
necessary tendency to prevail over opposite power, not 
under the direction of it ; just as power under the direc- 
tion of reason has a tendency to prevail over brute force. 
If the latter be admitted, so ought the former. And the 
natural superiority of reason is admitted, notwithstanding 
it is necessary that certain circumstances should concur in 
order to secure it, e. g. 

(1.) There must be some reasonable proportion in num- 
bers, between the brutes and rational beings. 

(2.) There must be an opportunity of union among tha 
rational beings. 

^Jl.) There must be sufficient time for reason to exert it- 
self. (Pp. 128, 129.) 

8o also it must be admitted that virtue has a natural 


d 


ANALYSIS OP BUTLER S ANALOGY. 


tendency to triumph over vice, though similar circum 
stances must concur in order to give effect to that 
tendency. Whenever virtue does not thus triumph, it 
is owing to hindrances which may be removed in a 
future state. The happy tendency of virtue, even in 
the present world, may be illustrated by considering 
the supremacy which a kingdom would attain, where 
perfect virtue existed for many ages. (Pp. 130-134.) 

QJ Objection. — “ Notwithstanding these natural effects and tenden- 
♦iies of virtue, things may go on hereafter in the same mixed way 
as at present.” (P. 134.) 

Answer. — The author’s object is not ic prove God’s moral govern- 
ment over the world, but to observe what there is in the consti- 
tution and course of nature to confirm the proper proof of it, sup- 
posed to be known. And the foregoing observations are a very 
strong confirmati(n of the proof of a future state of retribution. 
For 

1. They show that the Author of Nature is in favor of virtue, and 
against vice. (Pp. 134, 135.) 

2. The distributive justice, which religion teaches us to expect at 
the last, will not be different, in Tdnd^ but only in degree^ from 
what we now experience. (P. 135.) 

3. Our experience that virtue and vice are actually rewarded and 
punished at present, in a certain degree, gives just ground to 
hope and to fear that they may be rewarded and punished in a 
higher degree hereafter. (P. 135.) 

1. And that they actually will be rewarded and punished in a 
greater degree hereafter may be expected from their good and 
bad tendencies respectively. For these tendencies are essential^ 
while the hindrances to their becoming effect are only acci- 
dental. (Pp. 135, 13G.) 

From these things arises a presumption that the moral govern- 
ment established in nature will be carried on much farther 

indeed, absolutely completed. And from these things, joined 
with the moral nature which God has given us, considered gs 
given by him, arises a practical proof tlwst it will be compJettfd 
(Pp. 136, 137.) 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLER*S ANALOGY. 


xH 


4 That our Present Life is a Probation for a Future Stat*. 
Chaps. 4, 5. 

(1.) A Probation implying Trial, Difficulties, and DaN' 
GER. Chap. 4. 


The state of trial which religion teaches that we are in, with 
regard to a future world, is only of a piece with the state of 
trial which we are in, with regard to the present world : e. g, 
whenever we are tempted to any course of action which wiF 
probably occasion greater temporal uneasiness than satisfao 
tion. Because 

1 The causes of our trial in both capacities are the same, viz : (Pp. 
140, 141.) 

(I.) Something in our external circumstances. 

(II.) Something in our nature. 

II. Our trials in both capacities have the same effect upon men’s oe- 
haviour. (Pp. 141, 142.) 

III. As in our religious capacity, our trials are greatly increased by 
the ill behaviour of others, by a wrong education, by general had 
example, and by the corruptions of religion ; so in our temporal 
capacity, they are increased by a foolish education, by the extra- 
vagance and carelessness of others, by mistaken notions concern- 
ing temporal happiness, and by our own negligence and folly. 
(P. 142.) 

IV. The equitableness of this state of degradation is vindicated, in 
both cases, by the same consideration, viz : That there is no more 
required of men, than they are well able to do. And we can no 
more complain of this, with regard to the Author of Nature, than 
of his not having given us other advantages, belonging to othei 
orders of creatures. (Pp. 142, 143.) 

•ONOLusiON. — Our experience of a state of trial in our natural capa 
city, makes it credible that we are in such a state in our mora 
capacity, notwithstanding any speculative difficulties which may t 
rcmnected with it. (Pp. 143, 144.) 


dii 


ANALYSIS OF BCTLER’S ANALOGY. 


\2 i Our presekt Life is a State of Probation, intended fob 
AIoral Discipline. Chap. 5. 


All the reasons for our being placed in such a state of trial, w« 
may not be able to understand. But the end is, our improve- 
ment in virtue and piety, as the requisite qualification for a 
future state of security and happiness. And this is analogous 
to the beginning of life as an education for mature age in the 
present world. 

1. A correspondence necessary between our nature and our condi- 
tion. — As there must be a correspondence between our nature 
and our external circumstances here, in order to life and happi- 
ness ; so there must be some character and qualifications, without 
which persons cannot but be incapable of the life of the good 
hereafter. (P. 146.) 

IL Capability of improvement. — We are so constituted that we are 
capable of naturally becoming qualified for states of life, for 
which we were once wholly unqualified. We can acquire habits 
of perception and habits of action ; — habits of body and habits 
of mind. As habits of body are produc^ed by external acts, so 
habits of mind are produced by the exertion of inward practical- 
principles. And thus a new character in several respects may 
be formed. (Pp. 146-150.) 

HI. Necessity for improvement. — These capacities for improvement 
are necessary to prepare us for our mature state of life. And as 
nature has given us the power of improvement, so she has placed 
us in a condition, in infancy, childhood and youth, fitted for it 
As childhood, then, is a state of discipline for mature age, bo 
this life is a sta*e of discipline for the next. If it be objecte-1, 
that we do not discern in what way it is so, it may be answered, 
so neither do children understand how food, exercise, &c., are 
preparing them for mature age, yet such is the fact notwithstand- 
ing. (Pp. 150-152.) 

IV How, and in what respects, the present life may be a preparation 
for the future state. (Pp. 152-168.) 

A. As regards the active principle of obedience to God’s com 
mands. (Pp. 153-161.1 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLER S ANALOGY. 


xliij 


B. As regards submission to Ms will. (Pp. 161-163.) 

A. As regards the active principle of obedience to God’s com- 
mands. 

V (I. ) The character of virtue and piety is a necessary qualifi* 
cation for the future state. (P. 153.) 

(II.) We want and are capable of improvement in that cha- 
racter, by moral and religious habits. (Pp. 153-168.) 
(III.) The present life is fit to be a state of discipline for such 
improvement. • (Pp. 158-160.) And 
(I ) The character of virtue and piety is a necessary qualifica* 
tion for the future state. — Because it is according to analogy 
to suppose, that the future state will be an active one — a 
community. And it is reasonable to suppose that this com- 
munity will be under the more immediate government of 
God ; that there will be occasion for the exercise of liberality, 
justice, and charity, among its members ; or at all events, 
for that character, which is the result of the practice of 
those virtues. The necessity for such a character may fur • 
ther be inferred from the fact that the government of the 
universe is moral. 

<II.) We want, and we are capable of, improvement in our moral 
character by discipline. (Pp. 153-168.) 

1. That we are capable of it, has been shown in what has 
been said of our natural power of habits. (P. 153.) 

2. We want it : 

(1.) As finite creatures. (Pp. 153-157.) 

(2.) As corrupt creatures. (Pp. 157, 168.) And 
(1.) As finite creatures. 

Creatures without blemish, as they come out of the hands 
of God, may be in danger of going wrong, and so may 
need the security of virtuous habits, in addition to the 
moral principle wrought into their natures by him. This 
danger arises from the fact, that they are endued with 
certain propensions, or affections, which are, of right, 
subject to the government of the moral principle as to the 
occasions, times, degrees and manner of their gratification ; 
but the principle of virtue can neither excite them, noi 
prevent their being excited. They are naturally felt when 
the objects of them are present to the mind, not only be- 
fore all consideration whether they can be obtained bj 


sliv ANALYSIS OF BUTLERS ANALOG x. 

lawful means, but. after it is found they cannot. Such 
propensions, then, must have some tendency, however 
small, to induce persons to forbidden gratification. This 
tendency may be increased by circumstances until it be- 
comes efiTect. Such an indulgence of a propension is not 
only criminal in itself, but depraves the inward constitu- 
tion and character. Thus it is that creatures made upright 
fall. On the other hand an undeviating obedience to the 
moral principle, is not only right in itself, but it improves 
’ the inward constitution and character ; and it may improve 
it to such a degree, as almost to remove the danger of 
defection. 

(2,) As corrupt creatures. 

Upright creatures, as we have just seen, may want to bo 
improved: but depraved creatures want to be renewed. If 
discipline, therefore, be expedient for the former, it ie 
absolutely necessary for the latter. 

(Til) The present life is fit to be a state of discipline for moral 
improvement. (Pp. 158- ICO.) 

The trials, difficulties and temptations which surround nh 
render the present world peculiarly fit to be a state of dis- 
cipline to those who will preserve their integrity, because 
they render being on our guard, resolution and self-denial 
necessary in order to that end. And this practice of virtue 
has a peculiar tendency to form habits of virtue. Whether 
there is any limit to this capacity for improvement, as in the 
case of our bodily and intellectual powers, we know not. 
But what has been said is sufficient to prove the truth of the 
proposition. 

Objection 1. — “ The present state is so far from proving, in 
event, a discipline of virtue to the generality of men, that, 
on the contrary, they seem to make it a discipline of vice.” 
(P. 160.) 

Answer. — The fact is admitted, and also that for this very 
reason the good have a better opportunity to improve 
themselves. But this does not prove that the present world 
was not intended for moral discipline; any more than th« 
fact that many seeds of vegetables and bodies of animals 
never reach maturity, proves that they were never intended 
to do so. (Pp. 160, IGl.) 


ANALYSTS OF BUTLER^S ANALOGY. xll 

Objection 2. — “ So far as a course of behaviour, materiall" 
virtuous, proceeds from hope and fear, so far it is only- 
discipline of self-love.” (P. 161.) 

Answer. — Doing what God commands, because he commandi 
w It, is obedience, though it proceeds from hope or fear 
Veracity, justice and charity, regard to God’s authority 
and to our own chief interest, are not only all three coin 
cident, but each of them is in itself a just and natum 
motive or principle of action. 

15 As regards passive submission to the will of God. (Pp. 161 
163.) 

The above remarks on active obedience apply to passive sub 
mission. It is a mistake to suppose that nothing but affliction, 
can give occasion for or require this virtue, — that it cannc 
be necessary to qualify us for a state of perfect happiness 
Prosperity and imagination may give occasion for its exercise 
and though there can be no scope for patience when sorrovl 
shall be no more, yet there may be need of a tempei^of mind 
which shall have been formed by patience. Habits of resig- 
nation may be requisite for all creatures; — certainly for 
human creatures. And affliction is the proper discipline for 
resignation. 

Conclusion. — Since the general doctrine that the present world is a 
state of moral discipline for another, is so entirely analogous to 
childhood’s being a discipline for mature age, it is in vain to object 
against the credibility of the doctrine, that all the trouble and dan- 
ger of such discipline might have been saved us, by our being made 
at once the creatures and the characters ivhich toe were to be. For 
we experience, that what we were to be was to be the effect of what w* 
would do. (Pp. 163. 164.) 


(8.) A Probation intended fob the Manifestati »n of Persons' 
Characters to the Creation. (P. 164.) 

I'his may be a means of their being disposed of suitably to their 
characters; and of its being known to the creation, by w.ay of 
example, that they are thus disposed of. At all events, it con- 
tributes very much, in various ways, to carrying on a great r^n 
of that general course of nature, respecting mankind, wtici 
comes under our observation at present. 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLER \S ANALOGY. 


tlV) 


IT OBJECTIONS TO THE PLAN OF NATURAL RELIGION AN- 
SWERED. Chaps. 6, 7. 
i . Objections to its Existence, Chap. 6. 


The fatalist, reasoning from his principle of universal necessity, would 
allege that there cannot be any such moral plan at all. 

Answer. — If that opinion be reconcilable with the constitution of 
nature, it is also reconcilable with religion. For 
I. Preliminary argument. — The opinion of necessity does not destroy 
the proof of an intelligent Author and Governor of Nature, whose 
existence has been taken for granted throughout this treatise 
(Pp.4G6, 167.) 

The opinion of universal necessity does not account for the for- 
mation of the world, any more than for the structure of a house. 
We do, indeed, ascribe to God, a necessary existence, uncaused 
by any agent. But this is a peculiar form of expression, arising 
from the scantiness of language, and would not be applied to any 
thing else. When, therefore, a fatalist asserts that every thing 
is by necessUy, he must mean, (1,) by an agent acting necessarily , 
and (2,) that the necessity by which such an agent is supposed to 
act does not exclude intelligence and design. 

11 Main argument. 

(1.) The opinion of necessity, supposed consistent with possibi- 
lity, with the constitution of the world, and the natural 
government which we experience, is also reconcilable with 
the system of religion. (Pp. 167-171.) 

1. Though this opinion were speculatively true, yet, with re- 
gard to practice, it is as if it were false, so far as our eX' 
perience reaches ; as may be seen in the instances of e 
child who should be educated in accordance with this cpi- 
nion; or of a man who should act upon it in regard to the 
preservation of his life. And religion being a practical 
subject, the notion of necessity is as if it were falee with 
respect to it. (Pp 168-17C 1 


ANALYSTS OF BUTLEIl’s ANALOGY 


xlvil 


2. If a will and character be reconcilable in us with fate, it is 
reconcilable with it in the Author of Nature. (Besides, 
natural government and final causes imply a will and cha- 
racter in the governor and designer.) And this necessity 
is as reconcilable with the particular character of benevo- 
lence, veracity, and justice in him, which attributes ar* 
the foundation of religion, as with any other character. 
And if the fatalist supposed the attribute of “justice” to 
be inconsistent with necessity, it may be observed that a 
necessity which destroys the injustice of murder, for in- 
stance, destroys also the injustice of punishing it. And 
further, the very fact that the fatalist objects to punish 
ment as unjust, shows how the notions of justice and in 
justice will cling to the human mind. (P. 171.) 
fil.) The opinion of necessity does not destroy the proof of rell 
gion. (Pp. 171-175.) 

1. It does not destroy this general proof, viz., that there is an 
intelligent Author of Nature — that he governs by rewards 
and punishments — that he has given us a moral faculty, 
by which we approve some actions as virtuous and of good 
desert, and disapprove others as vicious and of ill desert; 
and has thus told us that he will reward the virtuous and 
punish the vicious. All which is verified by the natural 
tendencies of virtue and vice ; and by the punishments 
inflicted on vicious actions as such, and as mischievous to 
society. (Pp. 172<-174.) 

2. It does not destroy the external proof of religion, drawn 
from its universality, its antiquity, and the historical account 
of its origin. (Pp. 174, 175.) 

(1.) Its universality. The fact that religion has been pro- 
fessed in all ages and countries, shows it to be con- 
formable to the common sense of mankind 
(2.) Its antiquity. That religion was believed in the first 
ages of the worVJ, is a proof of this alternative, either 
that it came into the world by revelation, or th it it is 
natural, obvious, and forces itself upon the mind. 

(8.) The historical account of its crigin, which represents 
religion as having been taught mankind by revelation, 
must be admitted as some degree of real proof that it 


was so 


Xiviii 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLEll'S ANALOGY. 


Bemark. — It ought to be recollected, after all proofs of 
virtue and religion, which are only general, that oul 
moral understanding may be impaired and perverted, 
and the dictates of it not impartially attended to. And 
our liableness to prejudice and perversion, is a most 
serious admonition to us to be upon our guard with 
respect to what is of such consequence as our deter- 
minations concerning virtue and religion. (Pp. 175, 176.) 

Objection. — “ The method of government by rewards and 
punishments, and especially rewarding and punishing good 
and ill desert, as such, respectively, must go upon suppo 
sition that we are free, and not necessary agents. x\nd it 
is incredible that the Author of Nature should govern 
us upon a supposition as true, which he knows to be 
false; and therefore absurd to think he will reward or 
punish us for our actions hereafter, especially that he 
will do it under the notion that they are of good or ill 
desert.” 

Answer. — The whole analogy of Providence shows that the 
conclusion is false, wherever the fallacy lies. The doc- 
trine of freedom shows where, viz., in supposing ourselves 
necessary, when in truth we are free agents. But upon 
the supposition of necessity, the fallacy lies in taking 
for granted, that it is incredible necessary agents should 
be rewarded and punished, since it is a matter of fact that 
they are so. (Pp. 176, 177.) 

Ul. Conclusion. We see then in what sense the opinion of necessity 
is destructive of all religion, and in what sense it is not. (P. 178.) 

1. It is destructive of it 

(1.) Practically, by encouraging men in vice and disregard of 
religion. 

(2.) Strictly, because it is a contradiction to the whole consti 
tution of nature, and so overturns every thing. 

2. It is not destructive of religion, if it can be reconciled with th« 
constitution of things; for then it may also be recopcUed TTitk 
religica 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLER'S ANALOGY. 


Xlil 


2 Objections to the Wisdom and Gojdness or this Mobax 
Plan. Chap. 7. 


Thougl the analogy of nature gives a strong credibility to the 
genera, doctrine of religion, and to the several particular 
things contained in it, as matxirs of fact, yet still objections 
may be urged against the wisdom, justice, and goodness of the 
system. To these analogy can give no direct answer, for it has 
to do with matters of fact ; but it can give an indirect answer 
by showing, 

1. It is credible that God’s moral government must be a scheme 
quite beyond our comprehension. (Pp. 181- 184.) 
n. There are some particular things in his natural government, the 
like of which being supposed in his moral government, will evince 
how little weight is to be attached to objections to its wisdom 
and goodness. (Pp. 184-186.) And 

1 It is credible that God’s moral government must be a scheme 
quite beyond our comprehension. (Pp. 181-184.) 

The world, and the whole material government of it appears to 
be a scheme ; and its parts have such an astonishing connection 
with each other, such reciprocal correspondences and mutual 
relations, that any one thing whatever may, for aught we know 
to the contrary, be a necessary condition to any other. This, 
then, immediately suggests, and strongly shows the credibility 
that the moral world and government may be an incomprehen- 
sible scheme too. Indeed the natural and moral world are so 
connected, as to make up together but one scheme, the former, 
in all probability, subservient to the latter. But it is enough, 
for the present purpose, that the moral world is a scheme ai 
much as the natural world ; consequently we are not competent 
judges of it, from the small parts which come within our view 
in the present life, and therefore no objections against any of 
these parts can be insisted upon by reasonable men. 

Objection. — “The things complained of, (the origin and contin- 
uance of evil,) might easily have been prevented by repeated 
interpositions; or, if this were impraclicatle, then a schitm* of 

4 


\ ANAl.YSIS or BUTLER^S ANALOGY. 

government is itself an imperfection, since more good miglii 
have been produced by single unrelated acts of distributive 
justice and goodness.” 

Answer. — "Were these assertions true, yet the government of the 
world might be just and good notwithstanding ; for, at the 
most, they would show nothing more than that it might have 
been better. But, indeed, the assertions themselves are en- 
tirely arbitrary. (Pp. 183, 184.) 

u There are some particular things in God’s natural government, 
the like of which being supposed in his moral government, will 
show how little weight is to be attached to objections to its 
wisdom and goodness. (Pp. 184-186.) 

(I.) In the natural world no ends are accomplished without means; 
and often desirable ends are brought about by means which 
would otherwise be very undesirable. Supposing the moral 
world to be analogous in this respect, the things objected 
against in it may be means by which an overbalance of good 
will, in the end, be produced. It is not meant by this to 
assert, that it would not have been better for the world if 
evil had never been committed. Many a man would have 
died, had it not been for the gout or a fever, but this does 
not prove that sickness is better than health. (Pp. 184-185.) 
Hi.) The natural government of the world is carried on by gene- 
ral laws. And for this there may be the wisest reasons, and 
the best ends may be accomplished by it. There is no ground 
to believe that irregularities could be remedied or precluded 
by general laws : and interpositions would produce evil and 
prevent good. (Pp. 185, 186.) 

Objection. — “We must judge of religion by what we do know, 
and look upon the rest as nothing ; or, however, the an- 
swers here given to the objections against religion, may 
equally be made use of to invalidate the proof of it, since 
their stress lies so very much upon our ignorance.” 
Answer. 

1. Though total ignorance in any matter equally precludets 
all proof concerning it, and objections against it, yet 
partial ignorance does not. We may know a person’s 
character and consequently tlie ends he will pursue, and 
yet not know the proper way of obtaining those ends. 
Iju which case our ignorance would be an answer to aU 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLER S ANALOGY. 


li 


objections against his mode of acting, but it would not 
invalidate the proof that such ends were intended. (Pp 
187, 188.) 

2. Even if our ignorance did invalidate the proof of reli- 
gion, and thus render it doubtful, yet moral obligations 
would remain certain, though it were not certain what 
would be the consequences of observing or violating 
them. Because we cannot violate them without boing 
self-condemned; and also because the credibility that 
the future consequences of virtue and vice may be what 
religion teaches us they will be, creates a certain obliga- 
tion, in point of prudence, to follow the one and avoid 
the other. (P. 188.) 

8 . The analogies adduced show that the objections against 
religion are delusive, because they show that it is not 
at all incredible that, could we comprehend the whole, 
we should find the permission of the disorders objected 
against to be consistent with justice and goodness, and 
even to be instances of them. Now this is not applica- 
ble to the proof of religion, as it is to the objections 
against it; and therefore cannot invalidate that proof, 
as it does the objections. (P. 188.) 

4. These answers to the objections against religion are, in 
reality, not taken merely from our ignorance,, but from 
what analogy teaches as to our incompetency to judge 
in cases where we are ignorant of the possibilities and 
relations of things. (P. 189.) 


m. coNtL>>s;Oi7.* 

What haj been adduced befhg matter of fact, ought to le^tcl 
men to consider in earnest their condition, and what they have to 
do. The credibility of religion, arising from experience and facts, 
is sufidcient. in reason, to engage them to live in the general prac- 
tice of all •virtue and piety. Mere passion is no reason, and but a 
poor excijf^o for a vicious course cf life. For men lay themselv«4 


lii 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLER’S ANALOGY. 


nnder the same kind of restraints, and as great ones too, from tem 
poral regards, as tirtue and piety in tlie ordinary course of things 
require. Against this poor plea of ungovernable passion, on the 
side of vice, there aie, on the side of religion, the motives drawn 
from our moral natu/e, from the presages of conscience, and our 
natural apprehension of God under the character of a righteous 
governor and judge, (a nature, and conscience, and apprehension 
given us by him,) and fiom the confii’mation of the dictates of reason, 
by “life and immortality brought to light by the gospel and “ the 
wrath of God revealed from heaven, against all ungodliness, and 
unrighteousness of men.” 


* Tbo author’s couotf^ioc is mad« up, for the mo!t part, tt « brief uaiyria ef tiM 
pMoacSliog 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLER^S ANALOGY 


Oil 


PART II. 

REVEALED RELIGION 


OUTLINE. 

I INTRODUCTION. — IMPORTANCE OF CHRISTIANITl 
Chap. 1. 

El. CREDIBILITY OF CHRISTIANITY. Chaps. 2-8. 

SHOWN BY CONSIDERING 

(I.) Supposed Presumptions against Revelation in OEN^iBAii 
Chap. 2. 

(II.) Objections against the Christian Revelation in Pab-- 
TicuLAR. Chaps. 3-6. 

1. As A Matter of Fact. Chap. 3. 

2. As inconsistent with the Wisdom and Goodness op God 
Chap. 4. 

3. As BEING A Complicated Scheme. End of Chap. 4. 

4. As CARRIED ON BY THE MeI IATION OF A DiVINE PERSON 

Chap. 5. 

6. As NOT UNIVERS.iLLY REVEALED, OR ClEARLY pROVKDk 

Chap. 6. 

( UL ) The Positive Evidence for Christianity, and tb ^ Objno 
TIONS against THAT EVIDENCE. Chap. 7. 

flV.) Objections AGAINST THE Argument PBOM 5 7'i'XOGi Uh p. ft 

4 * 


liv 


ANALYSIS (/E BUTLER'S ANALOGY 


X INTRODUCTION. -IMPORTANCE OF CHRISTIANITY. Ch. I 


(I.) Revelation no( useless. (Pp. 197, 198.) Shown by 

1. The state of religion in the heathen world. 

2. Doubtfulness of greatest men on important subjects. 

3. Inattention and ignorance of mankind in general. 

(1.) They could not reason out natural religion. 

(2.) If they could, they would not. 

(3.) If they would, they need to be reminded of it by a stand* 
ing admonition. 

(4.) The best need supernatural instruction. 

(ID Revelation not of small importance. Shown 

1. Generally, — because God has given it and enjoined its com 

mands. (Pp. 198, 199.) 

2. Particularly, — because 

(1.) It is a republication and external institution of natural 
religion. (Pp. 199-204.) 

(2.) It contains an account of a dispensation of things, not 
discoverable by reason, in consequence of which seve* 
ral distinct precepts are enjoined us. (Pp. 204-207.) 
And 

( 1 .) Christianity is a republication of natural religion. Pp. 199- 

204.) 

a. In its genuine simplicity. (P. 200.) 

b. With authority, being sustained by miracles and propho* 
cies. (Pp. 200, 201.) 

c. With increased light. (P. 201.) 

d. With the advantage of a visible church and its positiva 
institutions. (Pp. 201, 202.) 

Objection. — “ Christianity has been perverted, and has had 
but little good influence.” (P. 203.) 

Answer : 

(a.) The same argument would bear against Theism. 

(b.) The good effects of Christianity have not been smaU 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLER's ANALOOF. 


(e ) The' ill effects attributed to it, are not effects of ti 
at all. 

(d.) We must judge of Christianity, as well as of natural 
religion, not by its perversions, but by its genuine 
tendencies. 

CJ ) Christianity contains an account of a dispensation of things, 
not discoverable by reason, in consequence of "^yhich seve- 
ral distinct precepts are enjoined us. (Pp. 204-207.) 
a. The dispensation. (P. 204.) 

It is one carrying on by the Son and Spirit for the re- 
covery and salvation of mankind, 
b ThQ precepts enjoined us, in consequence. 

That we should be baptized in the name of the Son and 
Holy Ghost, as well as of the Father, together with other 
duties. 

fa.) Nature of the obligation, in the case. 

Duties to the Son and Holy Spirit arise, not from 
positive command merely, but from the relations they 
stand in to us. The external manner of worshipping 
them is a matter of pure revealed command, (as in 
deed it is perhaps in reference to God the Father,) 
but the internal worship of the Son and Holy Spirit 
is no farther matter of pure revealed command, than 
as the relations they stand in to us are matter of 
* pure revelation. (Pp. 205, 206.) 

(b.) Consequences of violating this obligation. 

There is no reason to think, but that neglect of be- 
having suitably to the relations thus revealed will bo 
attended with the same kind of consequences under 
God’s government, as neglecting to behave suitably 
to any other relations made known to us by reason. 
No one can say then, what may follow the disregard 
of Christ our mediator, and of the Spirit our sanc- 
tifier. (Pp. 206, 207.) 

Thence the supreme importance of examining most 
seriously into the evidence of Christianity, supposing 
it credible, and of embracing it, supposing it true. 

(111.) Concluding deductions. (Pp. 208-212.) 

1. Distinction between what is positive and what is moral in reli- 
gion. (P. 208.) 

(1.) Moral precepts are those the reasons of which we see* 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLER'S ANALOGY. 


jTi 




positive are those the reasons of which we do hoi 

see. 

(2.) Moral dulies arise out of the nature of the case itself 
prior to external command : positive duties do not arise 
out of the nature of the case, but from external command. 
The manner in which the nature of the case, or the fact 
of the relation, is mado known, does not denominate anj 
duty either positive or moral. 

S Superiority of moral duties over positive. (Pp. 209-212.) 

(1.) Preliminary remark. — Positive institutions in general, ac 
distinguished from this or that particular one, have iha 
nature of moral commands, since the reasons of them 
appear. We are therefore to compare positive and moral 
duties no farther than as they are different. (P. 209.) 

(2.) Grounds of the superior obligation of moral duties o-tei 
positive. (Pp. 209, 210.) 

A. In reason. 

a. There is a reason for this preference, and rone 
against it. 

b. Positive institutions themselves are means to a 
moral end ; and the end is more excellent than the 
means. 

c. While the moral law is matter of revelation, as well 
as positive institutions, the former is also written 
upon our hearts, and is thus shown to have the 
superior claim. 

B. In Scripture. (Pp. 210, 211.) 

a. The notion, prevalent among mankind, in all ages, 
that religion consists in peculiar positive institu- 
tions, instead of obedience to moral precepts, is 
not only utterly subversive of true religion, but 
also contrary to the whole general tenor of Scrip- 
ture, as well as to express particular declarations. 

b. Scripture always puts the stress of religion upon 
moral duties, never upon positive. And our Lord 
showed the same preference, when he was censured 
for “eating with publicans and sinners,” and when 
his disciples were censured for ‘ plucking the ears 
of corn on the Sabbath day,” embodying this great 
truth in that proverbial manner of expression, “I 
will have mercy and not sacrifice.” 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLER^S ANALOGY. 




a CREDIBILITY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

(I.) Thkee is no Presumption against Revelation in GEMEBAJb 
Chap. 2 


I None against the general scheme of Christianity, whether called 

miraculous or not. (Pp. 213-215.) If there is, it must be 

either 

1. Because it is not discoverable by reason or experience. (P. 
214.) Or, 

2. Because it is unlike the known course of nature. (Pp. 214, 216.) 
And 

1. There is no presumption, from analogy, against the truth of it 
on the first ground, because there must be many things, in the 
natural and moral system of the universe, beyond the na'<ural 
reach of our faculties. 

2. There is no presumption against it on the second ground ; be- 
cause there is no reason to believe that every thing in that 
part of the divine government which is naturally unknown to 
us, must be like something that is known, especially when we 
see things in the natural and moral world greatly unlike each 
other. It will appear however presently, that the scheme of 
Christianity is by no means unlike the scheme of nature. (Pp. 
214, 215.) 

If. No presumption against revelation considered as miraculous. 

(Pp. 215-219.) 

1. None against it at the beginning of the world. (Pp. 215-217.) 
For as there was no course of nature then, or at all events wo 
are not acquainted with it, the question about a revelation at 
that time is but a common question of fact. The power which 
was exerted to make the world, whether called miraculous or 
not, might just as easily be further exerted, to make a revela- 
tion. We may receive, therefore, the testimony of history and 
tradition, on this, as on any common matter of fact of the same 
antiquity. That testimony is, that religion originally came 
into the world by revelation ; and this has a tendency to remove 
any prf?ijudices against a subsequent revelation. 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLERS ANALOGY. 


Iviil 


2. None against it after the settlement of a course of nafara 

(Pp. 217-219.) 

(1.) Generally: nothing short of the history of another world, 
like our own, would be a parallel case, on which to found 
an analogical argument ; and even if we had this, a single 
instance is not sufficient for proof. (P. 217.) 

(2.) More particularly : 

a. There is a very strong presumption against common 
speculative truths, and ordinary facts before proof. 
Hence the question of importance is, what is the degree, 
of the peculiar presumption against miracles. For rf 
there be the presumption of millions to one against the 
most common facts, a small additional presumption, 
though it be peculiar, amounts to nothing. (Pp. 217, 218.) 

b. Leaving out moral considerations, the present course of 
nature is involved in so much darkness, that there seems 
no improbability in supposing, that five or six thousand 
years may have given occasion for miraculous interpo- 
sitions. ('P. 218.) 

c. Taking in moral considerations, we see reasons for 
miracles, viz. : to give additional instruction, and to 
attest the truth of it. (Pp. 218, 219.) 

d. Miracles must not be compared to common natural 
events, but to extraordinary phenomena. (P. 219 ) 


(II.) There are no valid Objections against the Ghristiab 
Revelation in Particular. (Chaps. 3-6.) 

1. As A Matter of Fact. Chap. 3. 


I. Proposition. — Although it is possible that a supposed revelation 
may be found false from internal characters, as from ciear im- 
moralities or contradictions; yet in general, object! jns. against 
Christianity, as distinguished from objections against iU evidence, 
are frivolous. (P 221.) 


ANALYSIS OF butler's ANALOGY. 


Ill 


L) Proof of the proposition. — Objections against Cbristianitjf 
are founded on the supposition, that we can know before* 
hand what it ought to be. But this is not the case in refe- 
rence to the natural dispensation of God, how much less in 
reference to the revealed. Thus, suppose the subjects of a 
prince were incompetent to judge beforehand of his ordinary 
administration, it could not be expected that they would N 
competent judges of the extraordinary. (P. 222.) 

II ) Application of this proof to inspiration. (Pp. 223, 224.) Wf 
know not beforehand with reference to natural information : 

1. What degree of it God would afford men. 

2. What means, or disposition to communicate it would bn 
given. 

3 What degree of evidence it would have. 

4. Whether it would be imparted with equal clearness to all. 
6. Whether knowledge, or the faculty of acquiring it, would 
be given at once or gradually. 

So we are ignorant of the same things in regard to reve- 
lation, and also as to whether it should have been com 
mitted to writing, or handed down by tradition. 

Objection. — “A revelation, which was not committed to 
writing, would not have answered its purpose.” 

Answer. — “It would have answered other purposes, or 
the same purposes in different degrees ; and which of 
these were the purposes of God, we could not have de- 
termined beforehand.” (P. 224.) 

C'tlL) Inference from the above argument. — The true question is, 
whether Christianity is a real revelation, not whether it ia 
such a one, as we might have expected. And hence, 

1. No valid objection against Christianity can be founded, 
(unless the contrary had been promised,) 

(1.) On obscurity or inaccuracy of style. 

(2.) On various readings. 

(3.) On disputes about the authors. 

2. The only objections would be, (none being alleged agaiaff 
Its morality,) that it has 

(1.) No miracles to attest its truth. 

(2.) Nothing miraculous in its success. 

(3.) No prophecy. (Pp. 224, 225.) 
if General objections considered. (Pp. 225-280.) 


ANALYSIS OF butler's ANALOGY. 


Iz 

<L) Objection. — “Internal improbabilities of all kinds weakea 
external probable proof.” (P. 225.) 

Answer. 

1. True, yet any improbability may be overcome bv testi« 
mony. 

^ In the present case, we know not what are improbabi- 
lities. For the objections against the manner in which 
instruction is afforded us by revelation, are not greatei 
than we would think, prior to experience, we had 
against the manner it is afforded in the ordinary course 
of nature : e. g. it would have been thought improbable 
prior to experience, 

(1.) That men should know more about the laws of 
matter and the heavenly bodies, than about dis- 
eases. 

(2.) That invention should be so irregular and capri- 
cious a way of information. 

(3.) That language should be so imperfect and liable 
to abuse, from negligence and design. 

( 4 .) That the instinct of brutes should, in some things, 
be superior to the reason of men. (Pp. 226, 226.) 

I. Application of these observations to a particular in- 
stance, e. g. the 

Objection. — “Miraculous gifts (so called) were some 
times, in the apostolic age, exercised in a disorderly 
manner, and hence could not have really been mira- 
culous.” (P. 227.) 

Answer. 

(1.) It is to be supposed that a person so endued, 
would have the same power over a supernatural 
gift, as over any natural endowment, and hence 
that he would use it as he did any other, accord- 
ing to his sense of propriety and his prudence. 
( 2 .) If it be insisted on that God should have re- 
strained and directed such persons in the exercise 
of their gifts, it is answered, that we do not find 
in the natural course of Providence, that supe- 
rior gifts of memory, eloquence and knowledge 
are conferred on persons of prudence and de- 
cency; or that instruction is always given in e 
way to recommend it. (Pp. 227, 228.) 


ANALYSIS OF SUTLER'S ANALOGY. iTk 

4 . Farther parallel between the light of nature and that 

of revelation. (P. 228.) 

,'l.) As the common rules of conduct in tcmpcral affairs 
are plain and obvious, so also is practical Chris- 
tianity. 

(2.) As many parts of natural and civil knowledge re- 
quire careful consideration, so also do some parts 
of Scripture, especially the prophetical. 

(8.) The hindrances of natural and supernatural light 
and information have been of the same kind. 

( 4 .) As natural knowledge is increased by the continu 
ance and progress of learning and liberty, so it may 
be that time will open and ascertain the meaning 
of several parts of Scripture. 

Objection. — “This analogy (between natural and 
supernatural light) fails, for natural knowledge 
is of little moment.” 

Answer. — a. We have been speaking of the general 
instruction of nature. 

b. Some parts of natural knowledge are of the 
greatest importance. 

c. The whole constitution and course of nature 
shows that God does not distribute his gifts 
according to our preconceived notions. (Pp. 
228, 229.) 

(II ) Objection. — “If Christianity is a remedial system, is it 
credible that it should have been so long delayed, and then 
so partially and imperfectly communicated to mankind ?” 

Answer. — It is not incredible that this might be so. Many 
of the remedies for diseases have been unknown for ages, 
are now known to but few, and probably many are yet 
unknown. And those which have been discovered are, in 
their application, neither certain, perfect, nor universal. 
And the same principles, which would lead us to conclude 
that they must be so, would lead us likewise to conclude 
that there should be no diseases at all. (Pp. 229, 23c7.) 

II Concluding deductions : (Pp. 230-232.) 

1 . Not that reason may not judge of Revelation, as to 
(1.) The morality cf Scripture. (P. 230.) Or 


fi 


txii 


ANALYSIS or butler's ANA.><Xir. 


[N. B. The Scriptures give no precepts contrai y to iniraut&hle moraltty 
though they do contain precepts to do certain acts, which, without 
such precepts, would be unjust.] 

(2.) The eviiense of revelation, and the objections against that 
evidence. (P. 231.) 

2. But reason may not judge of the scheme itself, if no immo> 
rality be alleged. 

8. Although it makes nothing against Christianity, to prove that 
it is not what might have been expected from revelation ; yet 
it does make for it, to prove that it is not what might have 
been expected from enthusiasm and political views, because we 
arc capable of judging of these. (P. 232.) 


t Theiie ake no valid Objections against the Wisdom, Jvstiob. 
4.ND Goodness of Christianity. Chap. 4. 


the first part of this work (Chap. 7) the objections against the 
wiwdom, justice and goodness of the system of nature were answered 
by showing that, (1.) It is a system or scheme quite beyond our com- 
prehension; (2.) A scheme in which means are used to accomplish 
ends, and (3.) One carried on by general laws. If Christianity is a 
scheme of the like kind, the like objections against it must admit of 
the like answers. We proceed to show that this is the case. 

I. Christianity is a scheme quite beyond our comprehension. (Pp 
233-235.) 

It is a part of the general plan of Providence, in which God so con- 
ducts things, that every one shall, at length, and upon the whole, 
receive according to his deserts. It is a part, consisting itself of va- 
rious parts, i. e. of a mysterious economy, carried on by a divine 
person, the Messiah, for the recovery of the world from ruin ; of 
the manifestation of the Messiah in the fulness of time ; of the 
miraculous mission of the Holy Ghost, and his assistance given te 
good men ; of the invisible government of Christ over the Churtb 
and of his future return to judge the world, and completely re- 
establish the kingdom of God. Such a scheme cannot but be 
imperfectly comprehended. If we seriously consider the part of 


ANALYSIS OB’ butler’s ANALOGY. Ixilj 

the Christian scheme, which is revealed, we shall find so much 
more unrevealed, as will convince us, that we know as little of it 
as of the constitution of nature. 

II It is a scheme in which means are used to accomplish ends. rP. 
235.) 

Hence it is credible, that things which appear foolishness to us, 
may be the very best means of accomplishing the very best ends ; 
and their appearing foolishness is, in such a scheme, no presump' 
tion against them. 

III A scheme carried on by general laws. (Pp. 235-237.) 

We say that the course of nature is carried on by general laws , 
yet it is only from seeing that part of it is, that we conclude so 
of the whole. For we do not know by what laws storms and 
tempests destroy mankind ; by what laws persons born into the 
world are of such capacities and tempers ; by what laws certain 
thoughts come into our minds ; by what laws some die as soon as 
they arc born, and some live to extreme old age. If analogy is 
a just ground for concluding that these, the inexplicable events 
of nature, are by general laws, it is also a sufficient ground to 
render it credible that miraculous interpositions are by gencial 
laws of wisdom. 

It being thus manifest that Christianity is a scheme like that 
of nature, it is perfectly credible that there might be the like 
appearance of deficiencies and irregularities in it; i. e. that it 
would be liable to the like objections. And those objections are 
answered by the foregoing observations, just as the like objections 
against the frame of nature are answered by the like observations 
concerning it. 


to. T«bkb are no Valid Objections against Christianity as Bima 
A Complicated Scheme. Chap. 4, end. 


Before proceeding to the objections against particular things ia 
Christianity, let us consider one that is made against the whoic Echoma 
loeiMher; viz* 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLER'S ANALOGY. 


Objectloii. — “Christianity represents God, like man, reduced to th^ 
necessity of a long series of intricate means to accomplish his 
ends, — the recovery and salvation of the world.” (P. 238.) 

Answer. — 1. Such is the case in the natural course of Providence. 
The Author of Nature appears deliberate throughout his opera* 
tions, accomplishing his ends by slow, successive steps ; e. g. the 
change of the seasons, the ripening of the fruits of the earth, &c. 

2 We cannot tell now far, either in the economy of nature, or cf 
grace, means are ends, and ends means. 


1. There are no Valid Objections against Christianity as a 
Scheme carried on by a Divine Mediator. Chap. 6. 


The appointment of a mediator between God and man, and the re- 
demption of the world by him, is in accordance with the analogy of 
nature. For 

I. We are indebted for life and its blessings to the mediation of 
others ; indeed the whole visible government of God over us is 
carried on by such means. It is therefore credible that his in- 
visible government may be carried on in the same manner ; — 
sufficiently credible at least to remove all objections against the 
general notion of a mediator, considered as a doctrine of Chris- 
tianity. (P. 240.) 

It is supposable that future punishment may follow wickedness, 
by way of natural consequence, according to some general laws 
established in the universe. This supposition does not make the 
punishing of wickedness appear any the less the doing of God; 
for what comes to pass by the course of nature is done by him, 
who is the God of Nature ; and the Scriptures ascribe to him 
those punishments which we know to be natural. As future pun- 
ishment is a matter of reason and justice, it comes to the same 
thing, whether it be supposed to be inflicted as a natural conse- 
quence, or in any other way. (Pp. 240-242.) 

Provision is made in the constitution of nature, that all the ba.3 
natural consequences of men’s actions should not always actually 
follow, but should uncertain degrees be prevented This feature lu 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLER'S ANALOGY. 


Gt i’a present government over us, is an instance of compassion 
in the original constitution of the world ; and gives us ground to 
hope, that provision might be made, possibly might have been 
originally made, for preventing the ruinous consequences of vice. 

But we have no reason to look for such a provision as a matter 
of course. For when we consider the consequences of such ac- 
tions as can scarcely be called vicious ; the great criminality and 
dreadful effects of vice, even in this life ; it is by no means intu- 
itively certain, how far, consistently with the moral constitution 
of nature, those consequences could be prevented. We could 
only hope that, in the universal government of God, there might 
be some way in which it could be done. (Pp. 242, 243.) Yet 
rv There seems no reason to suppose, that any thing we could do 
would of itself prevent them ; for we do not know all the reasons 
why future punishment should be inflicted, nor the whole conse- 
quences of vice, nor the manner in which they would follow if 
anprevented. But the analogy of nature gives us positive evi 
dence on this point ; for when men by their folly bring on them- 
selves temporal injury, disease, and ruin, neither sorrow for the 
past, nor amendment for the future, will prevent these conse> 
quences. It is therefore supposable, that, if we misbphave in 
our higher capacity, and render ourselves obnoxious to the pun 
ishment of vice, sorrow and amendment will not be alone sufficient 
to prevent that punishment. 

It may be added that the supposition of the efficacy of simple 
amendment to prevent the consequences of sin, is clearly contrary 
to all our notions of government. And the notion of the efficacy 
of repentance alone to prevent them, appears, by the prevalence 
of propitiatory sacrifices over the heathen world, to be contrary 
to the general sense of mankind. (Pp. 243-245.) Now 
f Revelation confirms these fears of future punishment, and these 
presumptions of the inefficacy of repentance to procure the par- 
don of sin ; supposes the world to be in a state of ruin, but at 
the same time teaches us, that God has provided that there should 
be an interposition in our behalf. More particularly it assures 
us, that God gave his Son to the world, that whosoever believeth 
on him should not perish ; that the Son loved us with an infinite 
love, and gave himself for us; and that his interposition was 
effectual to prevent that execution of justice upon sinners which 
would otherwise have been appointed them. (Pp 245-247.) 

6 ^ 


Ixvi 


ANALYSIS OF BVTLER’S ANALOGY. 


Cbjection, — “This whole manner of treating the subject auj- 
poses mankind to be in a very strange state.” (P. 247.} 
Answer. — True; but it is not Christianity which has put us int« 
this state. Whoever will consider the present and past states 
of the world, will find he has little reason to object against the 
Scripture account that mankind is in a state of degradation. 
And that the crime of our first parents should have placed us 
in a more disadvantageous condition is analogous to the daily 
course of Providence: just as the recovery of the world by the 
interposition of Christ has been shown to be so in general. 

V 1 The Scriptures explain to us in what way Christ interposes his 
offices; viz. as Prophet: — King; — Priest. (Pp. 247-251.) 

1. The passages in which his ofiBces are stated. (Pp. 247-249.) 

[N. B. The sacrifice of Christ was not an allusion to the Mosaic sacrifices, 
but is expressly declared, in the epistle to the Hebrews, to be tb*i original, 
to which they were but allusions.] 

2 Particular description of his offices. (Pp. 250, 251.) 

(1.) As a Prophet: He published anew the law of nature; ho 
confirmed the expectation of a future judgment ; he re- 
vealed the true manner of worhipping God, the efficacy 
of repentance, and the rewards and punishments of a 
future life. Thus he was a prophet in a sense in which 
no other ever was. Besides this, he set us a perfect ex- 
ample. 

(2-) As a King: Fe founded a church to be a standing memo- 
rial of religi,/n, and an invitation to it, in all time. He 
governs this church by his Spirit; and he has gone to 
prepare a place, where its members may reign with him 
for ever. 

fS.) As a Priest: He offered himself a propitiatory sacrifice, 
and made atonement for the sins of the world ; and this 
sacrifice was of perfect efficacy for obtaining the pardon 
of sin. 

How the sacrifice of Christ is of this efficacy, the Scrip- 
tures have not revealed. Some have endeavoured to explain 
it beyond what the Scriptures have authorized; others, 
probably because they could not explain it, have been foi 
taking it away, and confining Christ’s office to his instruc- 
tion, example, and government of the church. Whereas 
the doctrine of the gospel appears to be, not only that he 


ANALyiJIrt OF P.UTLER^S ANALOGF 


/aught the eificiicy of repentance, but that be made it of the 
etFicacy 'which it has; not only that he revealed to sinners, 
that they were in a capacity of salvation, but that he put 
them into this capacity, ty what he did and sulFered foi 
them. 

W o lave no means of kno'wing, antecedently to revelation, whether 
a INltxIiator -was necessary, and upon supposition of one, how the 
mediation -was to be effected ; and it is therefore highly absurd to 
object a,3ainst the expediency or usefulness of particular things, 
done or s.^ffered by Christ, because we do not see how they were 
conducive to the ends proposed. (Pp. 251, 252.) And yet this 
mode of obj scting is very common ; e. g. the 
Objection. — “ The death of Christ supposes God to be indifferent 
^ whether the innocent or the guilty suffer.” (Pp. 252-256.) 
Answer ; 

I This objection conclude equally against natural providence ; 
for it is constantly appointed, in our daily life, that the inno- 
cent should suffer for the guilty ; and the infinite importance 
of that appointment of Christianity which is objected against, 
does not hinder it from being one of the same kind. If the 
objection has any force at all, it is more conclusive against 
providence, than against Christianity ; for men are some- 
times commanded and necessitated to suffer for each other; 
whereas the sufferings of Christ were voluntary. (Pp. 252, 
253.) 

2. The tendency of this method of our redemption is to vindi- 
cate the authority of God’s laws, and to deter his creatures 
from sin ; though this is not an account of the whole of the 
case. (Pp. 253, 254.) 

3 Not only the reason the thing, but the whole analogy of 
nature should teach us not to expect to have the like infor- 
mation concerning txie divine conduct as concerning our 
duty. We know very little of the constitution of nature, 
but yet are instructed sufficiently for the purposes of life. The 
case is the same with regard to revelation. The doctrine of 
a Mediator between God and man relates only to what waa 
done on God’s part in the appointment, and on the Media- 
tor’s in its execution. Our duty, in consequence of this 
gracious dispensation, is another subject, in which none can 
complain for want of information. God has given us here 
qU things pertaining unto godliness. (Pp. 254. 255.) 


Ixvili 


ANALYSIS OP RUTLEll’S ANALCOY. 


t. Thkeb abb no valid Objections against Cheistianiiy, Af not 

DNrV'EBSALLY ReVEALED, OR CLEARLY PROVED. Chap. 6. 


I Preliminary argument. (Pp. 256, 257.) 

It has been thought by some persons, that if the evidence of 
revelation appears doubtful, this itself is a positive argument 
against it; for it cannot be supposed, thai if it were true, it 
woula be left upon such evidence. And sot..e object against re- 
velation, because it is not universal. These opinions are founded 
upon the following suppositions: (1.) That Ood would not have 
bestowed any favour upon us, unless in the degree, which we 
think would be most to our advafftage; and, (2.) That he would 
not bestow a favour upon any, unless he bestowed the same upon 
all. Both these presuppo.sitions are contradicted by the general 
analogy of nature. Hence 

(I.) It is not inconsistent with the analogy of nature that the 
evidence of religion should be doubtful. For.it is often ex- 
ceedingly difl&cult to determine wherein our temporal inte- 
rest consists ; to estimate the changes and accidents which 
may disappoint our plans ; and to answer objections to a 
course of action, which, however, for good reasons, we feel 
warranted to pursue. We may be deceived too by the false- 
hood of men, and the false appearances of things. There 
being such doubtfulness as to our temporal interest and 
the means of attaining it, it becomes credible that there 
should be the like doubtfulness respecting our religious in- 
terest, and the way in which it is to be secured. (Pp. 256, 
257.) 

(11.) Not inconsistent therewith that the evidence of religion 
should not he universal. For God, in numberless instances, 
bestows that upon some, which he does not upon others, who 
seem equally to need it. Indeed, he bestows all his gifts, 
health and strength, capacities of prudence and knowledge, 
among his creatures, with the most promiscuous variety: 
and yet he does exercise a natural government over tbt 
world. (P. 257.) 


ANALYSIS QF SUTLER’S ANALOGY 


Ixu 

!L Fads of the case with regard to religion. (Pp. 257-25D.) 

As neither the Jewish nor Christian revelation has been uni- 
versal, and as they have been afforded to a greater or less part 
of the world at different times, so likewise at different times, both 
revelations have had different degrees of evidence. The Jewt* 
who lived before the close of the captivity, had higher evidence 
of tho truth of their religion, than those who lived afterwards. 
And the first Christians had higher evidence of miracles, wrought 
in attestation of religion, than we have now ; while we, or future 
ages, may have a proof, which they could not have, from the 
fulfilment of prophecy. If we suppose that, for the present, it 
was intended that revelation should be but a small light, illumi 
nating some more perfectly, others less, and others not at all ; 
that some men should have it with the system and evidence so 
corrupted, as to be i doubt about the whole ; and lastly, that 
those who receive Christianity in its purity, should have only 
sufficient light to teach them their duty and encourage them in 
discharging it, there would be nothing in all this inconsistent 
with the daily course of providence towards us in our temporal 
capacity. But more particularly, 

1. This state of the case is not inconsistent with justice. (P 
259.) God will only require of every man, what might have 
been equitably expected of him, from the circumstances in 
which he was placed. Every man shall be acceptedy according 
to what he had, not according to what he had not. 

H It is not inconsistent with wisdom and goodness. (Pp. 260- 
266.) For, 

(1.) The evidence of religion not appearing obvious,* may be 
part of some men’s trial. — For this condition of the evi- 
uence gives scope for a virtuous exercise or vicious neglect 
of the understanding, in examining or not examining into 
it. We may be in a state of probation with regard to the 
exercise of our understanding upon the subject of religion, 
as we are with regard to our behaviour in common affairs. 
The same disposition which makes a man obedient to the 
precepts of religion, would lead him, were he unconvinced 
of its truth, seriously to consider its system and ev. dence ; 


• t e. That religion is not intuitively true, but a matter requiring carafnl dedu* 
•i./U and inference 


^3 


.-iNALYSlS OP BUTLER S ANALOGY 


and negligence and inattention before conviction, are 
really sinful as vicious practice afterwards. (Pp. 260, 261.) 

(2 ' Even doubtful evidence* puts men in a state of probation. 

(Pp. 261-264.) 

a. The argument — If a man were in doubt, whether hi* 
entire temporal blessings did not come from a certain 
person, he could not consider himself in the same situa- 
tion with regard to such person, as if he had no doubt; 
and so the apprehension, that religion may be true, re- 
quires of m.en reverence, careful consideration, open 
ness to farther light and conviction, and abstinence 
from all profanity. Nay, persons who have only a 
serious doubting apprehension of the truth of religion, 
are under the same kind of obligation as those who are 
fully convinced, the difference being only one of degree. 

b. The ground of the argument. — Doubt as much implies 
some evidence, as belief a higher degree of it, and cer- 
tainty a higher degree still. For, when we say there is 
an even chance, there is more evidence for either side 
of the question, than there is for the truth of a certain 
number of facts which come at random into one’s mind. 
There are as many degrees between no evidence at all, 
and that degree of it which affords ground of doubt, as 
between the latter and demonstration. And as inatten- 
tion to the lower degrees of evidence tw speculation indi- 
cates a weakness of the understanding, so a disregard 
of them in practice proves unfairness and, (in the case 
of religion,) corruptness of-heart. 

fS ) Difficulties of belief are no more cause of complaint th.an 
difficulties of practice, (Pp. 264-266.) ^ 

Speculative difficulties, in that they give occasion for a 
more attentive exercise of the virtuous principle, are of 
the same nature with external temptations : (1.) As im- 
plying trial and danger. For the evidence of religion not 
appearing obvious is, to some persons, a temptation to 
reject it without consideration ; and its supposed doubt- 
fulness, after consideration, affords opportunity for self 
deceit, for hiding from the mind the evidence which maj 
be seen, and for men’s encouraging themselves in vici 


* i. e. Upon and after considering A. 


ANALYiDlS OF liUTLEIl S ANALOGY. 


l«.\] 

frtiu the hope of impunity. (2.; As intended for the dis- 
cipline and improvement of virtue. As the generality of 
the world, from their insensibility to any thing distant, or 
which is not the object of the senses, are chiefly tempted 
to outward wickedness, so there are persons of a deeper 
sense of the future and invisible, who have small tempta- 
tions to behave ill in the common course of life. To this 
class of men the practice of religion, after conviction, is 
easy and unavoidable, and hence they stand in need of a 
higher moral discipline, than such easy practice would 
afford them. Or, (3.) They may be required to give a 
higher manifestation of their character to the creation of 
God than this practice would be. 

01 Concluding remarks. (Pp. 2G7-271.) _ 

1. These difficulties may be our own fault. (Pp, 207, 208.) 

If men are not heartily desirous of being infoimied in religion • 
if they attend less to evidence than to difficulties, and more to 
objections than to what is said in answer to them ; if they con- 
sider religion usually in the way of mirth and sport, they will 
just as likely be hindered from seeing its truth, as men, who 
carry these dispositions into common life, are hindered by them 
from arriving at that knowledge and right understanding which 
fairer minds attain. Levity, carelessness, passion and preju- 
dice do hinder us from being rightly informed with respect to 
common things * and they may^ in like manner, perhaps in 
some providential manner, with respect to moral and religious 
subjects; may hinder evidence from being laid before us, aan 
from being seen when it is. 

2 The general proof of religion lies level to men of common ca- 
pacity. (Pp. 208, 269.) 

Common men are capable of being convinced, that there is a 
God, who governs the world, and they feel themselves to have 
a moral nature, and to be accountable creatures. And as 
Christianity entirely falls in with this natural sense of things, 
so thej’- can be made to appreciate the evidence of miracles, 
and of the appearing completions of prophecy. And though 
such men are not able to clear up the difficulties, and to answer 
the objections to which this proof is liable, so as to satisfy 
curiosity (which indeed no one can do) yet thej' are capable -'ji 
seeing that the proof is not destroyed by them. 


Ixxii 


ANALYSIS OF SUTLER’S aNAEOGT 


3. It must bo remembered, that the object is not to proc**ro tlw 
performance of the outward act, but to cultivate the disposi- 
tion of the agent. (P. 269-270.) 

This observation is an answer to the objection, that if a 
prince were to send directions to a servant, he would take care 
that those directions should bear certain marks of having come 
from him, and that their sense should be so plain, that there 
could be no doubt about their meaning or authority. In this 
case, and in that cf giving, by revelation, a rule of life to man- 
kind, the objects are different; the cases are not parallel. To 
objections of this kind, it may also be answered, that we cannot 
argue thus with respect to him who is the governor of th« 
world ; for he does not afford us such information in our tem- 
poral affairs ; as experience abundantly shows. 

Finally, a state of religion implies a state of probation ; and we have 
no ground, from the reason of the thing, for saying that our only 
probation can be, whether we will act suitably to such information 
as admits of no doubt, so that our sole danger shall arise from our 
not attending to what we know, or from going contrary to it. Our 
probation may also be, whether we will take due care to inform our- 
selves, and whether we will afterwards act upon the evidence wt 
have, however doubtful. 


(III.) The Particular Evidence for Christianity, and the Obmo- 

TIONS AGAINST THAT EVIDENCE. Chap. 7. 


The object of this chapter is to inquire what the analogy of nature 
suggests as to the positive evidence for Christianity, and the objectif ns 
against that evidence. It contains 

L Observations relating to miracles, and the appearing completions 
of prophecy, and as to what the analogy of nature suggests t e- 
specting the objections to this evidence. (Pp. 273-287.; 

H. Some account of the general argument, consisting of the direct 
and collateral evidence considercil together. (Pp. 287-302.) And 
K Observations, &c. 


ANALYSIS OF butler’s ANALOGY 


IXXiii 


(L Miracles. (Pp. 273-283.) 

i. Arguments in favour of this evidence. (Pp. 27d~275.) 

The miracles are recorded in books, wlikli must b« 
admitted as authentic, genuine history, till acmewhal 
positive be alleged to invalidate it, such as historical 
evidence on the other side, general incredibility in th< 
things related, or inconsistence in the general turn of 
the history. And in particular, 
a. We have the same evidence of the miracles related 
in these books, as of the common matters of history 
recorded in them. 

b Parts of Scripture, containing accounts of miracles, 
are quoted from the age in which they were written 
to the present ; and no parts are omitted to be 
quoted in such a way as to cast a suspicion on their 
genuineness. 

c. The miraculous history in general is confirmed by 
contemporary events ; viz. by the establishment of 
the Jewish and Christian religions. These event! 
are just what we should have expected, upon sup 
position that the miracles were wrought. And tht 
miracles are the only satisfactory account of tht 
events which can be given. 

(2.) In the epistles of Paul, (of the authenticity of which 
there is strong proof,) the Apostle speaks of having 
received the gospel itself by miracle, and states that 
he and others were endow^ed witti miraculous powers. 
These powers he speaks of as publicly and familiarly 
known. (Pp. 275, 276.) 

(3.) Christianity was first preached and received upon the 
allegation of miracles, and in this differs from all 
other religions. The success, then, with which it met, 
is real evidence of the truth of those miracles, distinct 
from the direct historical evidence. For it is not to 
be supposed that such numbers of men, under such 
circumstances of difficulty in forsaking the old relb 
gion, and of trial and danger in acoepting the new, 
would embrace Christianity unless they were fully 
convinced of the truth of the miracles, wrought in 
itg attestation. (Pp. 270 '-278.) 


0 


Ixxiv 


analysis of butler s analogy. 


2 Objections to the evidence of miracles. (Pp 278 -281.) 

( 1 .) “ Many enthusiastic people have exposed themselvei 
to similar difiaculties for the most idle follies.” 

Answer. — We must in every case distinguish between 
opinions and facts. Testimony only proves a man’a 
belief in reference to them. And if the Apostles and 
their cf ntemporaries endured sulferings and death fo^ 
their belief of the facts of religion, their belief is a 
proof of those facts, for they were such as came uudei 
the observation of their senses. (Pp. 278, 279.) 

( 2 .) “ Enthusiasm weakens (if it does not destroy) the evi- 
dence of testimony, even for facts, in matters relating 
to religion.” 

Answer. — Not unless there is incredibility in the things 
attested, or contrary testimony, neither of which is 
the case here. And until either the one or the othe 
of these is established, it cannot be expected, tha 
such a far-fetched aecount of the- evidence, as enthu- 
siasm is, will be admitted, when we have the easy, 
obvious one, — that the witnesses speak the truth. 
But if this objection be insisted on, it is to be observed 
that prejudices of a like kind to enthusiasm, — ro 
mance, affectation, humour, party spirit, custom, 
&c., — affect men in common matters, and yet human 
testimony is naturally and justly believed notwith- 
standing. (Pp. 279, 280.) 

(8.) “It is possible, that the early Christians might in 
part be deceived themselves, and might in part design 
to deceive others.” 

Answer. — There are such combinations in human cha- 
racter, and yet, notwithstanding this, human testi- 
mony remains a natural ground of assent. (Pp. 280, 
281.) 

(4.) “Mankind have, in different ages, been strangely 
deluded by pretences to miracles.” 

Answer. — Not more by these pretences than by others 
(P. 281.) 

(6.) “ There is considerable historical evidence for mira 
cles which arc acknowledged to be fabulous.” 

Answer. — Tins does not overthrow the evidence 


ANALfBlS OE BUTLER'S ANALOGY. Ixxv 

Christian miracles, against which nothing of the kind 
can be proved. If evidence be confuted by contrary 
evidence, or in any way overbalanced, this does not 
destroy the credibility of other evidence, neither coir- 
futed nor overbalanced. (P. 281.) 

8. General remark. (Pp. 281-283.) 

The fact, that men are liable to bo deceived by enthusiasnt 
in religion, and by principles equivalent to enthusiasm ir. 
common matters, does indeed weaken the evidence of tes 
timony in all cases, but does not destroy it in any. No- 
thing can destroy the evidence of testimony in any case, 
but a proof or probability that persons are not competent 
judges of the facts to which they testify, or that they are 
under some indirect influence in giving it, in sucli particu- 
lar instance. Neither of these is likely in Christianity. Its 
importance would make men unwilling to be deceived them- 
selves. The obligations to veracity which it imposes, would 
make them unwilling to deceive others. 

(II.) Prophecy. — Observations suggested by the analogy of na- 
ture concerning evidence of a like kind to that from Pro- 
phecy. (Pp. 283-287.) 

1. The obscurity or unintelligibleness of one part of a pro- 
phecy does not, in any degree, invalidate the proof of 
foresight, arising from the appearing completions of those 
parts which are understood. For it is the same as if the 
parts not understood were lost, or not written at all, or 
written in an unknown tongue. Suppose a writing, partly 
in cypher, and partly in plain words, and that in the plain, 
intelligible part, there appeared mention of several known 
facts. No one would imagine that if he understood the 
whole, perhaps he would find that those facts were not 
really known by the writer. (Pp. 28b, 284.) 

2. A long series of prophecy be'/ig applicable to certain 
events, is itself a proof that v was intended of them. — 
There are two kinds of writing which have a great resem- 
blance to prophecy, with respect to the matter before us, 
the mythological and the satirical. In both these kinds, 
we judge that certain persons or events are intended, from 
the fact that the writing is applicable to them ; and our 
confidence that we understand the intended meaning is 


(XI VI 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLER’s ANALOG f 


greater or less, in proportion as we see the general turn 
of the composition to be capable of such application, and 
in proportion to the number of particular things capable 
of it. And thus if a long series of prophecy is applicable 
to the present state of the church and the world, and if 5 
long series, delivered before the coming of Christ, is appli- 
cable to him, these things are a proof that such prophetic 
history was intended of him, and of those events. (Pp, 
284, 285.) 

8, The showing that the prophets thought, in their predic 
tions, of other events, or that the predictions are capablf 
of being applied to other events, than those to which they 
are referred by Christians, would not destroy the force of 
the argument from prophecy; for it is not alleged that 
the prophets were the original authors of the predictions, 
but the contrary. Thus, if we knew one to have com- 
piled a book of memoirs, which he received from a person 
of vastly superior knowledge on that particular subject, 
we would not suppose we had the whole meaning of the 
book, from knowing the whole meaning of the compiler ; 
for the original author may have had some meaning, which 
the compiler never saw. To say that the prophecies of 
Scripture have no farther meaning than the writers sup- 
posed, is to suppose that the writers were the original, 
sole authors of the books ; i. e, that they were not inspired. 
If events correspond to prophecies, interpreted in a different 
sense from that in which the prophets are supposed to have 
understood them, this is a proof that this different sense 
was originally intended. So that the question is, has a 
prophecy been fulfilled in a natural and proper, that is, in 
any real sense of its words. (Pp. 285-287.) 

11 Some account of the general argument, consisting of the dire.c1 
ano collateral evidence considered together. (Pp. 287-302.) 

1. Reasons for adducing this. (P. 288.) 

(1.) Because the proof of revelation is not only express and 
direct, but consists also of a great variety of circum- 
Btances ; and though each of these circumstances is first to 
be considered separately, yet their proper force is obtained, 
by uniting them together in one view. 

(2.) If these matters of fact are laid together they must b« 
acknowledged to be of weight. 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLSR'S ANALOOV. 


-XAVU 


2 . Statement of the proposition. (Pp. 288, 289.) 

That God has given us, by external revelation, not only the 
system of natural religion, but also a particular dispensation 
of providence, which reason could in no way have discovered, 
and a particular institution of religion founded upon it, for the 
recovery of mankind, and raising them to perfection and final 
happiness. 

S Oharacter of this revelation. (Pp. 289-291.) 

(1 ) Considering it as wholly histoi'ical, (for prophecy is bm 
the history of events before they come to pass, and doc- 
trines and precepts are matters of fact,) it is a history of 
the world, as God’s world, from the creation, until the 
consummation of all things. 

(2.) It embraces a great length of time and a great variety of 
things, thereby affording abundant opportunity for confu^ 
tation, if false. And the supposed doubtfulness of its 
evidence, so far from implying a positive argument, that 
it is not true, appears on the contrary to imply a positive 
argument, that it is true. For if a relation of such ex- 
tent and antiquity cannot, in an age of knowledge, bo 
refuted to the satisfaction of reasonable men, this should 
be considered a strong presumptive proof of its truth ; In- 
deed it is a proof, in proportion to the probability, thwt if 
it were false, it might be shown to be so. 

i. Its contents. (Pp. 291-293.) • 

Besides the moral system of the world, it contains a chiono- 
logical account of its beginning, and from thence the genetilogy 
of mankind for many ages before common history begins ; — tho 
promise of a Messiah — his advent — his ministry and the suc- 
cess of his religion — together with a prophetic account of the 
state of this religion to the end of the world. 

5. Facts admitted in relation to it. (Pp. 293-299.) 

(1.) That the establishment of natural religion in the world is 
greatly owing to this revelation. 

(2 ) That it is of the earliest antiquity. 

(8 ) That its chronology and common history are entirely cre- 
dible, being confirmed by the natural and civil history of 
the world. The events described arise naturally out cf 
foregoing ones; each age is represented conformably Ic 
what we know of iU manners ; the characters have all the 

6 ^ 


Ixxviil analysis op butler's analogy. 

internal marks of being real ; the genealogies carry lh« 
appearance of veracity, and the narrative is unadorned 
There are no more mistakes of transcribers, than -were to 
have been expected in books of such antiquity. As all 
this is applicable to the ordinary history of the New Tes- 
tament, so also are its statements confirmed by profane 
authors. And this credibility of the common Scripture 
history gives credibility to its miraculous history ; for they 
are both interwoven together, and make up one relation, 
(Pp. 294, 295 ) 

^4.) That the Jews appear to have been the people of God 
(Pp. 295, 296.) 

(6.) That the Messiah did come, was rejected by the Jews, 
and received by the Gentiles on the evidence of miracles. 
(P. 296.) 

(6.) That his religion prevailed in spite of great opposition, 
and then became the religion of the world. (P. 296.' 

(7.) That the Jewish polity was destroyed, and the nation dis- 
persed, and that they have notwithstanding remained a 
distinct people ; at once a fulfilment of some prophecies, 
and a token of the fulfilment of others. (Pp. 297, 298.) 

(3.) That there are circumstances in the state of the world, 
besides what relates to Jews and Christians, corresponding 
with prophecy. (P. 299.) 

6 Concluding observations. (Pp. 299-302.) 

(^1.) This general view of the confessed historical evidence for 
miracles, and the many obvious appearing completions of 
prophecy, together with the collateral things here men- 
tioned, taken together amounts to real evidence of the 
truth and divinity of religion. Men may deny the fora 
of the evidence, but they must admit the facts. And no 
one can think the collateral things here given to be no- 
thing, who considers their importance in the evidence of 
probability as distinguished from demonstration. It re- 
quires, indeed, the truest judgment to determine the 
weight of circumstantial evidence, but it is often as con- 
vincing, as that which is most express and direct. (Pp 
299, 300.) 

(2.) It is safer to admit the evidence than to reject it True, 
to believe and disbelieve upon the consideration of safety 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLER’S ANALOGY- 


Ixxix 


VT of danger is a prejudice; and it is manifestly unrea- 
sonable to apply to men’s passions, — their hopes or thei? 
fears, — in order to gain their assent. But in deliberations 
concerning conduct, nothing is more reasonable than tc 
take its importance into the account. (P. 301.) 

(8.) Those who attack Christianity have the advantage over 
those who defend it ; because it is easier to assail singla 
points^ than to adduce the whole mass of evidence. (P. 302.' 


(IV) Objeotions against the Argument from Analogy. Chap. 8. 


I. The objections. (Pp. 303, 304.) 

1. ‘‘It is a poor thing to solve diflBculties in revelation, by saying 
that there are the same in natural religion.” 

2. “ It is a strange way of convincing men of the obligations Ox 
religion, by showing them that they have as little reason for 
their worldly pursuits.” 

8. “A strange way of vindicating the justice and goodness of the 
system of religion, by showing that like objections exist against 
natural providence.” 

4 . “ This way of reasoning must leave the mind unsatisfied.” 

6. “ Men cannot be expected, upon such evidence, to forego their 
pleasures.” 

\I. The answers. (Pp. 304-312.) 

1 . As to the first objection. (Pp. 304, 305.) 

( 1 .) To ask to have all difiBculties cleared, is to ask to compre- 
hend the divine nature, and the whole plan of Providence 
from everlasting to everlasting. But it has always been 
allowed to argue from what is acknowledged to what is 
disputed ; and it is no otherwise a poor thing to argue from 
natural religion to revealed, than it is to argue in number- 
less other ways of probable deduction and inference, ia 
matters of conduct, as we are constantly compelled to do. 
Besides, 

(2.) It is a thing of consequence, to show that objections against 
revelation are as much levelled against natural religion; 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLER S ANAL DGY. 




and when such objections are shown to be equally appiL 
cable to both, they are, properly speaking, answered 
But even in the latter part of this treatise, the admission 
of natural religion has not been insisted on ; and Chris- 
tianity has been vindicated not from its analogy to natu- 
ral religion, but chiefly from its analogy to the experienced 
constitution of nature. 

Aft to the second objection. (Pp. 305, 306.) 

(1 ) Religion is a practical thing, consisting in such a course 
of life, as we have reason to think to be commanded by 
the Author of Nature, and conducive to our happiness 
If men are convinced that they have like reason to believe 
this, as to believe that taking care of their temporal affairs 
will be to their advantage, such conviction cannot but be an 
argument to them for the practice of religion. And if the 
interest, which religion proposes to us, be infinitely greater 
than our temporal interest, then there must be proportiona- 
.ly greater reason for endeavouring to secure the one than 
the other. (2.) But the force of this objection consists in 
the supposition, “ That if religion were true it would not 
be left doubtful, and open to objections ; hence, that it is 
so left, is a presumption, perhaps a proof, that it is 
false.” Now the constitution and course of nature shows, 
that God appoints us to act, in our temporal affairs, upon 
evidence of a like kind and degree to the evidence of reli- 
gion, and this is an answer to such objection. 

8. As to the third objection. (Pp. 306-308.) 

The design of this treatise is not to vindicate the character of 
God, but to show 'the obligations of men ; and observations 
may tend to make out the latter, wnich do not appear, by any 
immediate connexion, to the purpose of the former ; which is 
less our concern, than many think. For, 

(1.) We need not justify the dispensations of Providence, any 
farther than to show, that the things objected against may 
be consistent with wisdom and goodness, and even instances 
of them. 

) The objections against the divine justice and goodness are 
not removed, by showing that there are like objections 
against natural providence ; but the objections being shown 
to be inconclusive, the things objected against are farU»«i 
ehown to conform to the constitution of nature. 


ANALYSIS OF BUTLER^S ANALOGY. .Yxr* 

(3.) This conformitjf would be of weight, though the objections 
(against the divine justice and goodness) were not an* 
swered; for religion implying matters of fact, it shows 
that these facts are not incredible. 

(4 ) Religion being reducible to matter of fact, we may answer 
objections against its credibility and truths without con- 
sidering the reasonableness of the system. Nor is it nece*- 
sary, (though it may be useful and proper,) to snow tht 
reasonableness of every precept and particular dispensa- 
tion. The obligations of religion are fully made out, by 
showing the reasonableness of its practice. 

(6.) Though analogy is not an immediate answer to objections 
against the justice and goodness of religion, it is an answ»«: 
to what is intended by such objections, viz.. That religion 
is incredible. 

4 . As to the fourth objection. (Pp. 308, 309.) 

(1.) We are obliged to take up with very unsatisfactory evi- 
dence in the daily course of life. (2.) Religion is intended 
to try the honesty and integrity of men, and to exercise and 
improve those 'virtues ; and therefore the real question is, 
whether the evidence of religion is sufficient to discipline 
that virtue, which it presupposes. (3.) Even if the argu- 
ment is not satisfactory, it is sufficient to show us what 
course of conduct is prudent. 

0. As to the fifth objection. (Pp. 309, 310.) 

If the evidence is sufficient to induce men to embrace religion, 
it is nothing to the purpose to say that they will not. For 
the object of this treatise is to inquire not what men are, but 
what the light and knowledge afforded them, require that they 
should be. And religion, considered as a probation, has had 
its end upon all persons, to whom it has been proposed ; for 
by this means, they have been put into a state of trial, lei 
them behave in it as they will. 

&i this whole treatise, no use has been made of the abstract principles 
of liberty and moral fitness, but the endeavour has been to prove the 
truth of religion, as matter of fact. This proof may be cavilled 
at, may indeed be easily shown not to be demonstrative, for it 
is not offered as such, but it cannot be evaded or answered ; and 
thus the obligations of religion are fully made out. Hence, there- 
foi'o, may be observed distinctly, what is the force of this treatise 


Ixxxii 


ANALYSIS OF SUTLER'S ANALOGY 


(1.) As to those who believe, it will clear the scheme of Chriftianitj 
of objections, and strengthen its evidence. (2.) As to those who dt 
not believe, it will show the credibility of Christianity, and the ab^ 
durdity of all attempts to prove it false. 


CONCLUSION.* 


We are under moral obligations to inquire seriously into the evi- 
dence of Christianity, and, upon supposition of its truth, to embrace 
it ; for we are bound to listen to the voice of God, through whatever 
channel it may reach us. And yet many reject both natural and 
revealed religion ; and some go so far, as to treat Christianity with 
scorn and contempt. We have shown, however, that the evidence for 
the latter cannot be considered as amounting to nothing: and the 
objections against it, in general — against its particular doctrines — 
against the mode in which it has been left us — against the positive 
testimonies for its truth — have been proved to be without weight. 
Having reason, therefore, to believe that the whole of religion, — 
both natural and revealed, — is entirely credible, we may conclude, 
(1.) That immorality is aggravated in those who have been made 
acquainted with Christianity, whether they believe it or not ; for the 
moral system of nature, or natural religion, which it lays before us, 
commends itself almost intuitively to a reasonable mind. (2.) That 
between satisfaction of the truth of Christianity, and satisfaction of 
the contrary, there is a middle state of serious apprehension that it 
may be true, joined with a doubt whether it be so ; and this is as far 
towards inhdelity as any one, who has had its evidences fairly pre- 
sented, can go. (3.) That if men, notwithstanding this light, can 
continue vilifying and disregarding Christianity, there is no reasoB 
to think they would act otherwise, even though there were a demon- 
stration of its truth. 


* Tk2 Coacln^on is msiniy oomposed of a reoapitiilation of the conteots sbt 
1 wading abavtara. 


THE 


ANALOGY OF RELIGION, 

NATURAL AND REVEALED, 

TO THE 


CONSTITUTION AND COURSE OF NATURE. 



^ f*. 



TO 

THE RIGHT HONOURABLE 

CHARLES, LORD TALBOT, 

BARON OF HENSOL, 

LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR OF GREAT BRITAIN, 

THE FOLLOWING TREATISE 

IS, WITH ALL RESPECT, INSCRIBED, 

IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF THE HIGHEST OBLIGATIONS 
TO THE LATE LORD BISHOP OF DURHAM, 

AND TO HIMSELF, 

BY HIS LOPvDSniP’S MOST DUTIFUL, 

MOST DEVOTED, 

AND MOST HUMBLE SERVANT, 

JOSEPH BUTLER. 


( Ixxxv ) 




advertisement 


faSFIXED TO THE FIRST EDITION 


fjp the reader should meet here with any thing which ho had 
not before attended to, it will not be in the observations upon 
the constitution and course of nature, these being all obvious j 
but in the application of them : in which, though there is no- 
thing but what appears to me of some real weight, and there- 
fore of great importance; yet he will observe several things, 
which will appear to him of very little, if we can think things 
to be of little importance, which are of any real weight at all, 
upon such a subject as religion. However, the proper force 
of the following Treatise lies in the whole general Analogy 
considered together. 

It is come, I know not how, to be taken for granted, by 
many persons, that Christianity is not so much as a subject of 
inquiry; but that it is now, at length, discovered to be fictitious. 
And, accordingly, they treat it as if, in the present age, this 
were an agreed point among all people of discernment; and 
nothing remained, but to set it up as a principal subject of 
mirth and ridicule, as it were by way of reprisals, for its having 
so long interrupted the pleasures of the world. On the con^ 

( Ixxxvii ) 


Ixsxviii 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


trarj, thus much, at least, will be here found, not taken foi 
granted, but proved, that any reasonable man, who will tho- 
roughly consider the matter, may be as much assured, as he ia 
of his own being, that it is not, however, so clear a case, that 
there is nothing in it. There is, I think, strong evidence of its 
truth ; but it is certain no one can, upon principles of reason, 
be satisfied of the contrary. And the practical consequence w 
be drawn from this is not attended to by every one who ia oon 
cerned in it. 


IfU. 


CONTENTS. 


la^aoBucnON Pag* 81 

PART I. 

OF NATURAL RELIGION. 

CHAP. I. 

Of a Future Life 91 

CHAP. IL 

Of the Government of God by Rewards and Punishments ; and par- 
ticularly of the latter 10? 

CHAP. III. 

Of the Moral Government of God 117 

CHAP. IV. 


Of a State of Probation, as implying Trial, Difficulties, and Danger ... 138 

CHAP. V. 

Of a State of Probation, as intended for Moral Discipline and Im- 


provement 143 

CHAP. VI. 

Of the Opinion of Necessity, considered as influencing Practice 165 

CHAP. VII. 


Of the Government of God, considered as a Scheme or Constitution, 
imperfectly comprehended 188 


COHCLUSION 

7 * 


Ixxxix ) 


198 


CONTENTS. 


10 

PART II. 

OF REVEALED REliiUiUJN. 

CHAP. I. 

Of the Importance of Christianity ... 

CHAP. 11. 

Of the supposed Presumption against a Revelation, considered as 
Miraculous 2U 

CHAP. III. 

Of our Incapacity of judging what were to be expected in a Revela- 
tion; and the Credibility, from Analogy, that it must contain 
Things appearing liable to Objections 22J 

CHAP. IV. 

Of Christianity, considered as a Scheme or Constitution, imperfectly 
comprehended 231 

CHAP. V. 

Of the particular System of Christianity ; the Appointment of a Me- 
diator, and the Redemption of the World by him 240 

CHAP. VI. 

Of the Want of Universality in Revelation ; and of the supposed De- 
ficiency in the Proof of it 260 

CHAP. VII. 

Of the particular Evidence fbr Christianity 273 

CHAP. \m. 

Of the Objections which may be made against arguing from the Ana- 
logy of Nature to Religion 303 

Conclusion 31S 

DISSERTATION I. 

Of Personal Identity 328 

DISSERTATION II. 

Of the Nature of Virtue 3SS 


PART I. 

OF NATURAL RELIGION. 


( 79 ) 





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[Since Butler^s day, the nature of analogical reasoning has 
been closely investigated. Archbishop Whately (Rhetoric, p. 
311) defines analogy to be a similarity or sameness of two 
relations. It is to be distinguished, therefore, from direct re- 
%emblance. The things compared may be unlike, and yet bear 
« like relation to some other objects. Thus the metropolis of 
% country may be called its heart, from its being supposed to 
bear the same relation to the social body as the heart to our 
physical system. In this manner, Butler argues that there 
may be the same relation between our present life (as a state 
of preparation and discipline) and a future one, as between 
childhood and mature age ; and again, that our future life may 
bear the same relation to the present, as the present to our 
previous state of existence : i. e. it may be a further develop- 
ment of our being. Mr. Mill extends the term analogical 
evidence to all arguments from resemblance which do not 
amount to a strict induction, without peculiarly distinguishing 
resemblance of relations. (Logic, p- 332.) This is Butler’s 
sense of the term, and indeed that of the majority of writers 
upon the subject. Mr. Mill justly remarks, that “ it has t'j be 
shown in the two cases asserted to be analogous, that the same 
law is really operating.’’ Butler constantly endeavours to do 
this in tracing the likeness between religion and the constitu- 
tion and course of nature. 

The parables of the New Testament are illustrative analogie.s, 
showing resemblance of relations; and the facility with which 
the visible creation affords them, suggests the thought of that 
deep and divinely established harmony between the natural 
and the spiritual worlds, the reality of which it is the object of 
this work, by its reasonings, to establish ] 









INTRODUCTION. 


Probable evidence is essentially distinguished from demon 
ftrative by this, that it admits of degrees ; and of all variety of 
them, from the highest moral certainty, to the very lowest 
presumption. We cannot indeed say a thing is probably true 
upon one very slight presumption for it ; because, as there may 
)e probabilities on both sides of a question, there may be some 
against it : and though there be not, yet a slight presumption 
does not beget that degree of conviction, which is implied in 
saying a thing is probably true. But that the slightest possible 
presumption is of the nature of a probability, appears from 
hence, that such low presumption often repeated, will amount 
even to moral certainty. Thus a man^s having observed the 
ebb and flow of the tide to-day, affords some sort of presump- 
tion, though the lowest imaginable, that it may happen again 
to-morrow. But the observation of this event for so many 
days, and months, and ages together, as it has been observed 
by mankind, gives us a full assurance that it will. 

That which chiefly constitutes probability is expressed in the 
word likely f that is, like some truth* or true event; like it, in 
itself, in its evidence, in some more or fewer of its circum- 
stances.f For when we determine a thing to be probably true, 
suppose that an event has or will come to pass, it is from the 
mind’s remarking in it a likeness to some other event, which wo 
have observed has come to pass. And this observation forms, 
in numberless daily instances, a presumption, opinion, or full 
conviction, that such event has or will come to pass ; according 
as the observation is, that the like event has sometimes, most 


* Verisimile. 

•}• [“ Like it in itself” seems to indicate the case in which we ha^e 
ascertained the whole nature of the truth or known fact, e. g. ascer- 
tained the whole of the conditions upon which a given consequence 
takes place. This is the case of a strict induction. “ Like in its 
evidence,” when the same testimony or proof which we have found 
jredible for some cases, leads us to believe something else. “ Like it 
in some more or fewer of its circumstances,” refers to analogies, In 
the popular sense of the terra, as before explained. F ] 


84 


IInTRODUCTIO!?. 


commonly, or always, so far as our observation reaches, come tc 
pass at like distances of time, or place, or upon like occ,asiong. 
Hence arises the belief, that a child, if it lives twenty years, 
will grow up to the stature and strength of a man j that food 
will contribute to the preservation of its life, and the want of it 
for such a number of days be its certain destruction. So, like 
wise, the rule and measure of our hopes and fears concerning 
he success of our pursuits ; our expectations that others will 
ct so and so in such circumstances; and our judgment that 
ijnch actions proceed from such principles ; — all these rely upon 
Dur having observed the like to what we hope, fear, expect, 
judge ; I say, upon our having observed the like, either with 
respect to others or ourselves. And thus, whereas the prince,* 
who had always lived in a warm climate, naturally concluded 
in the way of analogy, that there was no such thing as w^atcr 
becoming hard, because he had always observed it to be fluid 
and yielding : we, on the contrary, from analogy, conclude, that 
there is no presumption at all against this ; that it is suppo- 
sable there may be frost in England any given day in January 
next ; probable, that there will on some day of the month ; and 
that there is a moral certainty, that is, ground for an expecta- 
tion, without any doubt of it, in some part or other of the 
winter. 

Probable evidence, in its very nature, affords but an imper- 
fect kind of information, and is to be considered as relative only 
to beings of limited capacities. For nothing which is the 
possible object of knowledge, whether past, present, or future, 
can be probable to an infinite Intelligence ; since it cannot but 
be discerned absolutely, as it is in itself, certainly true, or cer- 
tainly false. But, to us, probability is the very g uid e of hfe. 

From these itiings it foITowsT^li^tdn questions oT diihcult^ 
or such as are thought so, where more satisfactory evidence 
cannot be had, or is not seen, if the result of examination bti, 
that there appears, upon the whole, any the lowest presumption 
on one side, and none on the other, or a greater presumption on 
one side, though in the lowest degree greater, this detcrminepi 
the question, even in matters of speculation ; and, in matters 
of practice, will lay us under an absolute and formal obligation, 
in point of prudence and of interest, to act upon that presump- 
lion, or low probability, though it be so low as to leave th« 


* The story is told by Mr. Locke, in the chapter on Probability. 


INTRODUCTION 


nmi(i in very great doubt which is the truth. For surely a 
man is as really bound in prudence to do what upon the whole 
appears, according to the best of his judgment, to be for hia 
happiness, as what he certainly knows to be so. Nay, further, 
in questions of great consequence, a reasonable man will think 
it concerns him to remark lower probabilities and presumptions 
than these ; such as amount to no more than showing ono side 
of a question to be as supposable and credibly as the other; 
nay, such as but amount to much less even than this. For 
numberless instances might be mentioned respecting the com- 
mon pursuits of life, where a man would be thought, in a 
literal sense, distracted, who would not act, and with gi*eat 
application too, not only upon an even chance, but upon much 
less, and where the probability or chance was greatly against 
his succeeding.* 

It is not my design to inquire further into the nature, the 
foundation, and measure of probability ; or whence it proceeds, 
that likeness should beget that presumption, opinion, and full 
conviction, which the human mind is formed to receive from it, 
and which it does necessarily produce in every one; or to 
guard against the errors to which reasoning from analogy is 
liable. This belongs to the subject of logic, and is a part of 
that subject which has not yet been thoroughly considered. 
Indeed, I shall not take upon me to say, how far the extent, 
compass, and force of analogical reasoning, can be reduced to 
general heads and rules, and the whole be formed into a system. 
But though so little in this way has been attempted by those 
who have treated of our intellectual powers, and the exercise 
of them, this does not hinder but that we may be, as we 
unquestionably are, assured, that analogy is of weight, in vari- 
ous degrees, towards determining our judgment, and our prac- 
tice. Nor does it in any wise cease to be of weight in those 
cases, because persons, either given to dispute, or v/ho require 
things to be stated with greater exactness than our facultiefi 
appear to admit of in practical matters, may find other cases, 
in which it is not easy to say, whether it be, or be not, of any 
weight; or instances of seeming analogies, which are really of 
none. It is enough to the present purpose to observe, that tliis 
general way of arguing is evidently natural, just, and conclusive. 
For there is no man can make a question but tljat the sun wir 


8 


* See Cba)'. vi. Turt. II. 


86 


INTRODUCTION. 


rise to-morrow, and be seen, where it is seen at all, m tin 
figure of a circle, and not in that of a square. 

Hence, namely from analogical reasoning, Origcn* has with 
singular sagacity observed, that ‘‘ he who believes the Scripture 
to have proceeded from him who is the Author of Nature, may 
well expect to find the same sort of difficulties in it, as are found 
in the constitution of Nature.’' And in a like way of rellcctioix, 
it may be added, that he who denies the Scripture to have 
been from God, upon account of these difficulties, may, for tha 
V 0 ry same reason, deny the world to have been formed by him 
On the other hand, if there be an analogy, or likeness, between 
that system of things and dispensation of Providence, which 
revelation informs us of, and that system of things and dispen- 
sation of Providence, which experience, together with ie<i»on, 
informs us of, that is, the known course of nature; t'i-i6 is a 
presumption, that they have both the same author anj vause; 
at least so far as to answer objections against the form* i being 
from God, drawn from any thing which is analogical or bimilar 
to what is in the latter, which is acknowledged to be from him j 
for an Author of nature is here supposed. 

Forming our notions of the constitution and governniciit of 
the world upon reasoning, without foundation for the principles 
which we assume, whether from the attributes of God or any 
thing else, is building a world upon hypothesis, like Descartes. 
Forming our notions upon reasoning from principles which are 
certain, but applied to cases to which we have no ground to 
apply them, (like those who explain the structure of the human 
body, and the nature of diseases and medicines, from mere 
mathematics, without sufficient data) is an error much akin to 
the former: since what is assumed in order to make the reason- 
ing applicable, is hypothesis. But it must be allowed just, to 
join abstract reasonings with the observation of facts, and argue 
from such facts as are known, to others that are like them ; 
from that part of the divine government over intelligent crea- 
tures, which comes under our view, to that larger and more 
general government over them, which is beyond it ; and, from 


* fiiv TOi ye tov aira^ Tta^alt^djitvov tov KTiaavras rbv Kdajiov tlvat Tad rat 
ras Ypa<pds ireneiaOai, on baa nspl tTjs KTiaciog diravr^ roig ^tjrovai rbv trcpi atri{$ 
\6yov, ravra Kai Tzepi twv ypr.ipCjv. rililocal. p. 23. Ed. Ciiut, [This saga- 
cious remark is, however, strangely misapplied by Origen tr, 'th« 
oatablishment of one of his favourite theories, — that there is .% niys 
tical meaning in every word and even letter of Scripture, F. ] 


INTRODUCTION 


b7 

what is present, to collect what is likely, credible, or net incro 
dible, will be hereafter. 

This method, then, of concluding and determining, being 
practical, and what, if we will act at all, we cannot but act 
upon in the common pursuits of life; being evidently conclu* 
live in various degrees, proportionable to the degree and exact- 
ness of the whole analogy or likeness; and having so great 
iuthoritT for its introduction into the subject of religion, even 
repealed religion, my design is to apply to that subject in geno’ 
ral , both natural and revealed ; taking for proved that there is 
an intelligent Author of Nature, and natural Governor of th>5 
world. For as there is no presumption against this prior to the 
proof of it, so it has been often proved with accumulated evi- 
dence ; from this argument of analogy and final causes ; from 
abstract reasonings ; from the most ancient tradition and testi- 
mony; and from the general consent of mankind. Nor does it 
appear, so far as I can find, to be denied by the generality of 
those who profess themselves dissatisfied with the evidence of 
religion. 

As there are some who, instead of thus attending to what ia 
in fact the constitution of Nature, form their notions of God’s 
government upon hypothesis ; so there are others who indulge 
themselves in vain and idle speculations, how the world might 
possibly have been framed otherwise than it is ; and upon sup- 
position that things might, in imagining that tliey should, have 
been disposed and carried on after a better model, than what 
appears in the present disposition and conduct of them. — -Su{> 
pose, now, a person of such a turn of mind to go on with his 
reveries, till he had at length fixed upon some particular plan 
of Nature, as appearing to him the best, — one shall scarce be 
thought guilty of detraction against human understanding, if 
one should say, even beforehand, that the plan which this 
speculative person would fix upon, though he were the wisest of 
the sons of men, probably would not be the very best, even 
a^^cording to his own notions of best; whether he thought thal 
to bo so, which afforded occasions and motives for the exercise 
of the greatest virtue, or which was productive of the greatest 
happiness, or that these two were necessarily connected, and 
ran up intc one and the same plan. However, it may not be 
uniss, once for all, to see what would be the amount of thcf?e 
imendations and imaginary improvements upon the system of 
Mature, or how far they would mislead us. And it seems there 
eouid be no stopping, till we came tc some such conclusions &f 


88 


INTRODUCTION. 


those : — That all creatures should at first be made as pcrfeci 
and as happy, as they were capable of ever being : that nothing, 
to be sure, of hazard or danger should be put upon them to do, 
(some indolent persons would perhaps think, nothing at all) : 
or certainly, that effectual care should be taken that they should, 
whether necessarily or not, yet eventually, and in fact, always 
do what was right and most conducive to happiness, which 
would be thought easy for infinite power to effect ; either by not 
giving them any principles which would endanger their going 
wrong, or by laying the right motive of action, in every instance, 
before their minds continually in so strong a manner, as would 
never fail of inducing them to act conformably to it: and that 
the whole method of government by punishments should be 
rejected as absurd ; as an awkward round-about method of carry- 
ing things on ; nay, as contrary to a principal purpose, for which 
it would be supposed creatures were made, namely, happiness. 

Now, without considering what is to be said in particular to 
the several parts of this train of folly and extravagance, what 
has been above intimated is a full, direct, general answer to it, 
namely, that we may see beforehand that we have not faculties 
for this kind of speculation. For though it be admitted, that, 
from the first principles of our nature, we unavoidably judge 
or determine some ends to be absolutely in themselves prefe- 
rable to others, and that the ends now mentioned, or, if they 
run up into one, that this one is absolutely the best, and, con- 
sequently, that we must conclude the ultimate end designed in 
the coastitution of Nature and conduct of Providence, is the 
most virtue and happiness possible ; yet we are far from being 
able to judge what particular disposition of things would bo 
most friendly and assistant to virtue j or what means might be 
absolutely necessary to produce the most happiness in a system 
of such extent as our own world may bo, taking in all that is 
past and to come, though we should suppose it detached from 
the whole of things. Indeed, we are so far from being able to 
judge of this, that we are not judges what may be the neces- 
sary means of raising and conducting one person to the highest 
perfection and happiness of his nature. Nay, even in the little 
affairs of the present life, we find men of different educations 
ind ranks are not competent judges of the conduct of each 
jtlier. Our whole nature leads us to ascribe all moral pcrfecticn 
to God, and to deny all imperfection of him. And this will for 
ever be a practical proof of his moral character, to such as will 
sensider what a practical proof is, because it is the voice of Gcxl 


INTRODUCTION. 


speaking in us. And from hence we conclude, that virtue must 
be the happiness, and vice the misery, of every creature ; and 
that regularity, and order, and right, cannot but prevail finally, 
in a universe under his government. But we are in no sort 
judges what are the necessary means of accomplishing this end 

Let us, then, instead of that idle and not very innocent em* 
ployment of forming imaginary models of a world, and schemes 
of governing it turn our thoughts to what we experience to be 
tho conduct of Nature with respect to intelligent creatures,* 
which may be resolved into general laws or rules of adminis- 
tration, in the same way as many of the laws of Nature respect 
ing inanimate matter, may be collected from experiments. And 
let us compare the known constitution and course of things, 
with what is said to be the moral system of nature; the acknow- 
ledged dispensations of Providence, or that government which 
we find ourselves under, with what religion teaches us to believe 
and expect; and see whether they are not analogous, and of a 
piece. And upon such a comparison it will, I think, be found, 
that they are very much so; that both may be traced up to the 
same general laws, and resolved into tho same principles of 
Divine conduct. 

The analogy here proposed to be considered, is of pretty large 
extent, and consists of several parts; in some more, in others 
less exact. In some few instances, perhaps, it may amount to 
a real practical proof, in others not so : yet in these it is a con- 
firmation of what is proved otherways. It will undeniably 
show, what too many want to have shown them, that tho 
system of religion, both natural and revealed, considered only 
as a system, and prior to tho proof of it, is not a subject of 
ridicule, unless that of Nature bo so too. And it will afford 
an answer to almost all objections against the system both of 
natural and of revealed religion; though not perhaps an answei 
in so great a degree, yet in a very considerable degree an 
answer, to the objections against the evidence of it : for objec- 
tions against a proof, and objections against what is said to be 
proved, the reader will observe, are different things 

Now the Divine government of the world, implied in tlu 
notion of religion in general, and of Christianity, contains in 
it, — That mankind is appointed to live in a future state ;* that 
iieie every one shall be rewarded or punished ;f rewarded oi 
punished respectively for all that behaviour here, which ws 


8 * 


* Ch. i. 


t Ch. ii. 


90 


INTRODUCTION. 


comprehend under the words, virtuous or vicious^ morally good 
or evil that our present life is a probation, a state of trial, 
and of discipline^ for that future one, notwithstanding the 
objections which men may fancy they have, from notions of 
necessity, against there being any such moral plan as this at 
ill :§ and whatever objections may appear to lie against the 
wisdom and goodness of it, as it stands so imperfectly m.ado 
known to us at present :|| that this world being in a state of 
flpostacy and wickedness, and consequently of ruin, and the 
sense both of their condition and duty being greatly corrupted 
amongst men, this gave occasion for an additional dispensation of 
Providence, of the utmost importance,^ proved by miracles,** 
but containing in it many things appearing to us strange, and 
not to have been expected a dispensation of Providence, 
which is a scheme or system of things, carried on by the me- 
diation of a divine person, the Messiah, in order to the recovery 
of the world ;|| II yet not revealed to all men, nor proved with 
the strongest possible evidence to all those to whom it is re- 
vealed ; but only to such a part of mankind, and with ^such 
particular evidence, as the wisdom of God thought fit.^fTf The 
design, then, of the following Treatise will be to show, that the 
several parts principally objected against in this moral and 
Christian dispensation, including its scheme, its publication, 
and the proof which God has afforded us of its truth ; that the 
particular parts principally objected against in this whole di^ 
pehsatibn, "are anSo^us to what is expefjehced in the constitu- 
tion and course of Nature, or Providence; that the chief obj ec- 
tidns themselves, which are alleged against the former, arc no 
other than what may be alleged with like justness against the 
latter, where they are found in fact to be inconclusive ; and 
that this argument, from analogy, is in general unanswerable, 
and undoubtedly of weight on the side of religion,*** notwith- 
standing the objections which may seem to lie against it, and 
the real ground which there may be for difference of opinion, 
as to the particular degi-ee of weight which is to be laid upon 
It. This is a general account of what may be looked for in the 
following Treatise. And I shall begin it with that which is tho 
foundation of all our hopes and of all our fears — all our hepsf 
•ad fears which are of any consideration — I mean a Futui\ Lt'Ca 

* Ch. iii f Ch. iv, f Ch. v. ^ Ch. v5. 

Ij Ch. vii. ^ Part ii. Ch. i. *» Ch. ii. It CL iiL 

tJ Ch. iv. Uii Ch. V Ch. vi. viL 01 m’ 


THE 


ANALOGY OF KBLIGION, &c 


PART I. 

OF NATURAL RELIGION. 


CHAP. I. 

Of a Future Life. 

Strange difficulties have been raised by some concerning 
personal identity, or the sameness of living agents, implied in 
the notion of our existing now and hereafter, or in any two 
successive moments ; which whoever thinks it worth while, may 
see considered in the first Dissertation at the end of this Trea- 
tise. But, without regard to any of them here, let us consider 
what the analogy of Nature, and the several changes which we 
have undergone, and those which we know we may undergo 
without being destroyed, suggest, as to the effect which death 
may, or may not, have upon us ; and whether it be not from 
thence probable, that we may survive this change, and exist in 
a future state of life and perception. 

I. From our being born into the present world in the help 
less imperfect state of infancy, and having arrived from thenco 
to mature age, we find it to be a general law of nature in our 
own species, that the same creatures, the same individuals, 
should exist in degrees of life and perception, with capacities 
of action, of enjoyment and suffering, in one period of their 
|}eing greatly different from those appointed them in another^ 
l>eriod of it. And in other creatures the same law holds. For 
the difference of their capacities and states of life at their birth 
rto go no higher) and in maturity ; the change of worms into 
niss, and the vast enlargement of their locomotive poweri 

91 


92 


Ol!' A FUTURE LIFE. 


[PART 1 

Bucli change ; and birds and insects bursting the shell, theii 
habitation, and by this means entering into a new world- fur- 
nished with new accommodations for them, and finding a new 
sphere of action assigned them — these are instances of this 
general law of nature. Thus all the various and wonderful 
transformations of animals are to be taken into consideration 
here. But the states of life in which we ourselves existed for- 
ttierly in the womb and in our infancy, arc almost as different 
from our present in mature age, as it is possible to conceive any 
two states or degrees of life can be. Therefore, that we are to 
exist hereafter in a state as different (suppose) from our present 
as this is from our former, is but according to the analogy of 
nature ; according to a natural order or appointment of the vcrj 
same kind with what we have already experienced.* 

IT. We know that wo are endued with capacities of action, 
of happiness, and misery; for we are conscious of acting, of 
enjoying pleasure, and suffering pain. Now, that we have these 
powers and capacities before death, is a presumption that we 
shiill retain them through and after death ; indeed a probability 
of it abundantly sufficient to act upon, unless there be some 
positive reason to think that death is the destruction of those 
living powers : because there is in every case a probability that 


* [ I am not sure that this, at least at the present stage of the ar 
gument, is a perfectly fair statement of the matter. For there is this 
essential difference between the state in which death appears to place 
us, and any state previously known by experience, that in the.former 
we seem wholly deprived of any bodily organization. Previous expe 
rience might, indeed, go the length of showing that a thinking being 
might continue the same, and retain the exercise of its living powers, 
under infinite varieties of organization. But this surely is a different 
thing from continuance without any organization whatever, nor capa- 
ble of being reached by the present proof, unless we take in some 
such additional considerations as Butler proceeds to allege after 
wards. However, it is to be remembered that natural religion does 
not necessarily teach that we shall exist hereafter without any bodily 
organization, — for we may pass, at death, into a bodily organization^ 
Inappreciable by our present senses, for anything we know to the con- 
trary, — and revealed religion does expressly teach that, in at leas) 
one part of our future existence, we shall have a corporeal organiza- 
tion. In effect, the ancient theistical philosophers, who held a futurj' 
jtate of retribution, almost universally supposed the soul to pass inW 
ar retain some other body after its separation from the present j 
either, as in the vulg.ar metempsychosis, passing into another gross 
body of the same kind, or retaining a certain ethereal vehicle of ltd 
twn. — F j 


chap. I.J 


OF A FUTURE LIFE. 


93 


rill things will continue as we experience they are, in all respects, 
except those in which we have some reason to think they will 
be altered. This is that kind* of presumption or probability 
from analogy, expressed in the very word continuance, which 
seems our only natural reason for believing the course of tho 
world will continue to-morrow, as it has done so far as our ex* 
perience or knowledge of history can carry us back. Nay it 
seems our only reason for believing, that any one substance, 
now existing, will continue to exist a moment longer ; the Self- 
existent Substance only excepted. Thus if men were assured 
that the unknown event, death, was not the destruction of oui 
faculties of perception and of action, there would be no apprehen- 
sion, that any other power or event unconnected with this of 
death, would destroy these faculties just at the instant of each 
creature’s death ; and therefore no doubt but that they would 
remain after it: which shows the high probability that our 
living powers will continue after death, unless there be some 
ground to think that death will be their destruction.f For if 
it would be in a manner certain that we should survive death, 
provided it were certain that death would not be our destruc- 
tion, it must be highly probable that we shall survive it, if there 
be no ground to think death will be our destruction. 

Now, though 1 think it must be acknowledged, that prior tu 
the natural and moral proofs of a future life com.monly insisted 
upon, there would arise a general confused suspicion, that in tho 
great shock and alternation which we shall undergo by death, we, 
that is, our living powers, might be wholly destroyed; yet even 
prior to those proofs, there is really no particular distinct ground 


* I say kind of presumption or probability ; for I do not mean to 
aiBrm that there is the same degree of conviction, that our living 
powers will continue after death, as there is, that our substances will. 

f Destruction of living powers, is a manner of expression unavoida- 
bly ambiguous ; and may signify either the destruction of a living being, 
$0 as that the same living being shall be incapable of ever perceiving or 
le/cting again at all ; or the destruction of those means and instruments by 
v.'kich it is capable of its present life, of its present state of perception and 
of action. It is here used in the former sense. When it is used in 
Uic latter, the epithet present is added. The loss of a man’s eye is a 
destruction of living powers in the latter sense. But we have no 
reason to think the destruction of living powers in the former sense 
to be possible. We have no more reason to think a being end-ei 
with living powers ever loses them during its whole existence, tnnn ts 
bsliere that a sUme evej‘ acquires them. 


94 


OF A FUTURE LIFE. 


[PART r 

or rcni'On for this apprehension at all, so far as I can find. If 
there bo, it must arise either from the reason of the things ci 
from the analogy of JS'alnre. 

But we cannot argue from the reason of the thing, that death 
is the destructiou of living agents, because we know not at all 
what death is in itself ; but only some of its effects, such as tha 
dissolution of flesh, skin, and bones. And these effects do in 
§Dwise appear to imply the destruction of a living agent. And 
ffosides, as wo are greatly in the dark, upon what the exercise 
ikf our living powers depends, so we are wholly ignorant what 
the powers themselves depend upon ; the powers themselves, as 
distinguished not only from their actual exercise, but also from 
ihe present capacity of exercising them; and as opposed to 
their destruction : for sleep, or however, a swoon, shows us not 
only that these powers exist when they are not exercised, as the 
passive power of motion does in inanimate matter ; but shows 
also that t.h . exist when there is no present capacity of exer- 
cising them , or that the capacities of exercising them for the 
present, as well as the actual exercise of them may be sus- 
pended, and yet the powers themselves remain undestroyed. 
Since then we know not at all upon what the existence of our 
living powers depends, this shows further, there can no proba- 
bility be collected from the reason of the thing, that death will 
be their destruction : because their existence may depend upon 
somewhat in no degree affected by death ; upon somewhat quite 
out of the reach of this king of terrors. So that there is nothing 
more certain than that the reason of the thing shows us no con- 
nection between death and the destruction of living agents. 
Nor can we find anything throughout the whole analogy of JVa- 
lure, to afford us even the slightest presumption, that animals 
over lose their living powers; much less, if it were possible, 
that they lose them by death; for we have no faculties where- 
with to trace any beyond or through it, so as to see w^hat becomes 
of them. This event removes them from our view. It destroys 
the sensible proof, which wt) had before their death, of their 
being possessed of living jwwers, but does not appear to afford 
ihe least reason to believe that they are then, or by that event, 
deprived of them. 

And our knowing that they were possessed of these powers^ 
ip to the very period to which w^e have faculties capable of 
tracing them, is itself a probability of their retaining them 
yen J it. And this is confirmed, and a sensible credibility i? 


iJiiAr. i.j 


OE A FUTURE LIFE. 


1)5 


given to it, by observing the very great and astonisliing ebanges 
which we have experienced; so great, that our existence in 
another state of life, of perception and of action, will be but 
according to a method of providential conduct, the like to which 
has been already exercised, even with regard to ourselves ; ac- 
cording to a course of nature, the like to which we have already 
gone through. • 

However, as one cannot but be greatly sensible, how difficult 
it is to silence imagination enough to make the voice of reason 
even distinctly heard in this case ; as we are accustomed, from 
mr youth up, to indulge that forward delu.sive faculty, ever 
obtruding beyond its sphere; of some assistance, indeed, to 
apprehension, but the author of all error : as we plainly lose 
ourselves in gross and crude conceptions of things, taking foi 
granted that we are acquainted with what indeed we are wholly 
ignorant of ; it may be proper to consider the imaginary pre- 
sumptions, that death will be our destruction, arising from these 
kinds of early and lasting prejudices ; and to show how little 
they can really amount to, even though we cannot wholly divest 
ourselves of them. And, 

I. All presumption of death’s being the destruction of living 
beings, must go upon supposition that they are compounded, 
and so discerptible.* But since consciousness is a single and 
indivisible power, it should seem that the subject in whicli it 
resides must be so too. For were the motion of any particle 
of matter absolutely one and indivisible, so as that it should 
imply a contradiction to suppose part of this motion to exist, 
and part not to exist, that is, part of this matter to move, and 
part to be at rest; then its power of motion would be indivisi- 
ble ; and so also would the subject in which the power inheres, 
namely the particle of matter : for if this could be divided into 
(WO, one part might be moved and the other at rest, which ia 
contrary to the supposition. In like manner, it has been ar 
gued,f and for anything appearing to the contrary, justly, that 
tince the perception, or consciousness, which we have of oux 
own existence, is indivisible, so as that it is a contradiction to 
suppose one part of it should be here and the other there ; the 
perceptive power, or the power of consciousness, is indivisible 
too ; and consequently, the subject in which it resides, that is, 


* [See note at the end of this chapter.] 

1 Hee Dt Clarke’s Letter to Mr. Dowdell, aad the Defencee of it 


OF A FUTURE LIFE. 


»(3 


[PART 1 


the conscious being. Now upon supposition that living Rgsi>< 
each man calls himself, is thus a single being, which thei\3 is at 
least nc more difficulty in conceiving than in conceiving it to bo 
a compound, and of which there is the proof now mentioned ; 
it follows that our organized bodies are no more ourselves, or 
part of ourselves, than any other matter around us. And it is 
a.s easy to conceive how matter, which is no part of ourselves, 
may be appropriated to us in the manner which our preneni 
bodies are, as how we can receive impressions from, and have 
power over any matter. It is as easy to conceive, that we may 
exist out of bodies, as in them ; that we might have animated 
bodies of any other organs and senses wholly different from 
these now given us, and that we may hereafter animate these 
same or new bodies variously modified and organized, as to con- 
ceive how we can animate such bodies as our present. And, 
lastly, the dissolution of all these several organized bodies, sup- 
posing ourselves to have successively animated them, would 
have no more conceivable tendency to destroy the living beings, 
ourselves, or deprive us of living faculties, the faculties of per 
ception and of action, than the dissolution of any foreign matter, 
which we are capable of receiving impressions from, and making 
dse of for the common occasions of life. 

IT. The simplicity and absolute oneness of a living agent 
cannot, indeed, from the nature of the thing, be properly proved 
by experimental observations. But as these fall in with the 
supposition of its unity, so they plainly lead us to concludt 
certainly, that our gross organized bodies, with which we per- 
ceive the objects of sense, and with which we act, are no part 
of ourselves, and therefore show us, that we have no reason to 
believe their destruction to be ours ; even without determining 
whether our living substance be material or immaterial. Foi 
we see by experience that men may lose their limbs, their organa 
of sense, and even the greatest part of these bodies, and yet 
remain the same living agents. And persons can trace up the 
existence of themselves to a time when the bulk of their bodies 
W'as extremely small, in comparison of what it is in mature age *. 
and we cannot but think that they might then have lost a con 
Biderable part of that small body, and yet have remained the 
same living agents, as they may now lose great part of their 
present body, and remain so. And it is certain, that the bodir.?! 
Af all animals are in a constant flux, from that never-ceasing 
fettririou wliich there is in every part '»f them. Now, things vJ 


W A FUTURE LIFE. 


97 


CHAP. 1.] 

this kind unavoidably teach us to distinguish between the8« 
living agents, ourselves, and large quantities of matter, in whiCti 
W’e are very nearly interested ; since these may be alienated, 
and actually are in a daily course of succession, and changing 
their owners ; whilst we are assured that each living agent re- 
mains one and the same permanent being. And this general 
ibservation leads us on to the following ones. 

1. That we have no way of determining by experience, w'hal 
i the certain bulk of the living being each mar. calls himself; 

and yet, till it be determined that it is larger in bulk than the 
«oUd elementary particles of matter, which there is no ground 
to think any natural power can dissolve, there is no sort of 
reason to think death to be the dissolution of it, of the living 
bc’ng, even although it should not be absolutely indiscerptit.c 

2. From our being so nearly related to, and interested in cer* 
tain systems of matter, suppose our flesh and bones, and after- 
wards ceasing to be at all related to them, the living agents 
ourselves, remaining all this while undestroyed, notwithstanding 
such alienation ; and consequensly these systems of matter not 
being ourselves : it follows, further, that we have no ground to 
conclude any other, suppose internal systems of matter, to bo 
the living agents ourselves ; because w'e can have no ground to 
conclude this, but from our relation to, and interest .in, such 
other systems of matter : and therefore we can have no reason 
to conclude, w’^hat befals those systems of matter at death, to be 
the destruction of the living agents. We have already, several 
times over, lost a great part, or perhaps the whole of our body, 
according to certain common established law's of nature ; yet w'e 
remain the same living agents : when w'e shall lose as great a 
part, or the whole, by another common established law of na- 
ture, death, why may w'e not also remain the same ? That the 
alienation has been gradual in one case, and in the other wall be 
more at once, does not prove any thing to the contrary. We 
have passed undestroyed through those many and great revolu- 
tions of matter, so peculiarly appropriated to us ourselves ; why 
should we imagine death will be so fatal to us ? Nor can it be 
objected, that what is thus alienated, or lost, is no part of our 
original solid body, but only adventitious matter because we 
may lose entire limbs, which must have contained many soHd 
parts and vessels of the original body : or if this be not admit- 


U 


* See TUssei talioii J 


98 


OF A FUTURE LIFE. 


[PART I 

ted^ we have no proof that any of these solid parts ire dissolvea 
or alienated by death ; though, by the way, we are viry nearly r^ 
lated to that extraneous or adventitious matter, whilst it conti- 
nues united to and distending the several parts of our solid body. 
But after all, the relation a person bears to those parts of hi? 
body to which he is the most nearly related, what does it ap- 
pear to amount to but this, that the living agent and those 
parts of the body mutually ajBfect each other ? And the same 
thing, the same thing in kind, though not in degree, may be 
said of all foreign matter, which gives us ideas, and which wc 
have any power over. From these observations the whoI<i 
ground of the imagination is removed, that the dissolution of 
any matter is the destruction of a living agent, from the inte- 
rest he once had in such matter. 

3 . If we consider our body somewhat more distinctly, as 
made up of organs and instruments of perception and of mo- 
tion, it will bring us to the same conclusion. Thus, the com- 
mon optical experiments show, and even the observation how 
sight is assisted by glasses shows, that we see with our 03^08 in 
the same sense as we see with glasses. Nor is there any reason 
to believe, that we see with them in any other sense; any 
other, I mean, which would lead us to think the eye itself a 
percipient. The like is to be said of hearing : and our feeling 
distant solid matter by means of somewhat in our hand, seems 
an instance of the like kind, as to the subject we are consider- 
ing. All these are instances of foreign matter, or such as is no 
part of our body, being instrumental in preparing objects for, 
and conveying them to the perceiving power, in a manner simi- 
lar, or like to the manner in which our organs of sense prepare 
and convey them. Both are, in a like way, instruments of our 
receiving such ideas from external objects, as the Author of 
nature appointed those external objects to be the occasions of 
exciting in us. However, glasses are evidently instances of 
this; namely, of matter, which is no part of our body, preparing 
objects for, and conveying them towards the perceiving power, 
in like manner as our bodily organs do. And if we see with 
our eyes only, in the same manner as we do with glasses, the 
like may justly be concluded, from analogy, of all our other 
senses. It is not intended, by any thing here said, to affirm, 
that the whole apparatus of vision, or of perception by an^ 
other of our senses, can be traced, through all its steps, quite 
ur tc the living power of seeing, or perceiving ; but that so far 


OF A FUTURE LIFE> 


99 


CHAP. I.j 

as it can be trac«^.d by experimental observations, so far it ap* 
pears, that our organs of sense prepare and convey on objects, 
in order to their being perceived, in like manner as foreign 
matter does, without affording any shadow of appearance, that 
they themselves perceive. And that we have no reason to 
think our organs of sense percipients, is confirmed by instances 
of persons losing some of them, the living beings themselves, 
their former occupiers, remaining unimpaired. It is confirmed 
riso by the experience of dreams ; by which we find we are at 
present possessed of a latent, and what would otherwise be an 
unimagined unknown power of perceiving sensible objects, in as 
strong and lively a manner without our external organs of 
sense, as with them. 

So also with regard to our power of moving, or directing 
motion by will and choice : upon the destruction of a limb, this 
active power remains, as it evidently seems, unlessened; so as 
that the living being, who has suffered this loss, would be capa- 
ble of moving as before, if it had another limb to move with. 
It can walk by the help of an artificial leg, just as it can make 
use of a pole or a lever, to reach towards itself, and to move 
things beyond the length and the power of its natural arm : 
and this last it does in the same manner as it reaches and 
moves, with its natural arm, things nearer and of less weight. 
Nor is there so much as any appearance of our limbs being 
endued with a power of moving or directing themselves; 
though they are adapted, like the several parts of a machine, 
to be the instruments of motion to each other ; and some parts 
of the same limb, to be instruments of motion to other parts 
of it. 

Thus a man determines, that he will look at such an object 
through a microscope; or being lame suppose, that he will 
walk to such a place with a staff a week hence. His eyes and 
his feet no more determine in these cases, than the microscope 
and the staff. Nor is there any ground to think they any more 
put the determination in practice, or that his eyes are the seers 
or his feet the movers, in any other sense than as the micro- 
scope and the staff are. Upon the whole then, our organs of 
sense and our limbs are certainly instruments, which the living 
persons, ourselves, make use of to perceive and move with : there 
is not any probability, that they are any more; nor consequent- 
Iv, that we have any other kind of relation to them, than what 
<vc may have to any other foreign matter formed into instm 


too 


OE A FUTURE LIFE. 


[PART I 


ments oi perception and motion , suppose into a microscope or ti 
gtafif (I say, any other kind of relation, for I am not speaking 
of the degree of it 3 ) nor consequently, is there any probability, 
that the alienation or dissolution of these instruments is the 
destruction of the perceiving and moving agent. 

And thus our finding, that the dissolution of matter in which 
living beings were most nearly interested, is not their dissolu- 
aon j and that the destruction of several of the organs and in- 
stmments of perception, and of motion belonging to them, is 
not their destruction ; shows demonstratively, that there is no 
ground to think that the dissolution of any other matter, or 
destruction of any other organs and instruments, will be the 
dissolution or destruction of living agents, from the like kind of 
relation. And we have no reason to think wo stand in any 
other kind of relation to any thing which we find dissolved by 
death. 

But it is said, these observations are equally applicable to 
brutes; and it is thought an insuperable difliculty, that they 
shoul'l be immortal, and by consequence, capable of everlasting 
happiness. Now this manner of expression is both invidious 
and weak ; but the thing intended by it, is really no difficulty 
at ail, either in the way of natural or moral consideration. For 
1st, Suppose the invidious thing, designed in such a manner 
of expression, were really implied, as it is not in the least, in 
the natural immortality of brutes ; namely, that they must arrive 
at great attainments, and become rational and moral agents ; 
evdQ this would be no difficulty, since we know not what latent 
powers and capacities they may be endued with. There was 
once, prior to experience, as great presumption against human 
creatures, as there is against the brute creatures, arriving at 
that degree of understanding which we have in mature age , 
for we can trace up our own existence to the same original with 
theirs. And we find it to be a general law of nature, that 
creatureii endued with capacities of virtue and religion, should 
be placed in a condition of being, in which they are altogether 
without the use of them for a considerable length of their dura- 
tion, as in infancy and childhood. And great part of the 
human species go out of the present world, before they come 
to the exercise of these capacities in any degree at all. But 
then 2dly, The natural immortality of brutes does not in the 
least imply, that they are endued with any latent capacities of 
( rational or moral nature. And the economy of the universj 


CHAP, r.] OF A FUTURE LIFE. lOi 

might require, that there should be living crcaiures without any 
capacities of this kind. And all difificulties, as to the mannei 
how they are to be disposed of, are so apparently and wholly 
founded on our ignorance, that it is wonderful they should be 
insisted upon by any, but such as are weak enough to think 
they are acquainted with the whole system of things. There 
is then absolutely nothing at all in this objection, which is so 
hetorically urged against the greatest part of the natural proof 
»r presumptions of the immortality of human minds : I say, 
Jie greatest part ; for it is less applicable to the following oh’ 
eervation, which is more peculiar to mankind : — 

III. That as it is evident our present powers and capacities 
of reason, memory, and affection, do not depend upon our gross 
body, in the manner in which perception by our organs of sense 
does ; so they do not appear to depend upon it at all in any 
such manner, as to give ground to think, that the dissolution 
of this body will be the destruction of these our present powers 
of reflection, as it will of our powers of sensation ; or to give 
ground to conclude, even that it will be so much as a suspen- 
sion of the former. 

Human creatures exist at present in two states of life and 
perception, greatly different from each other ; each of which has 
its own peculiar laws, and its own peculiar enjoyments and 
Bufferings. When any of our senses are affected, or appetites 
gratified with the objects of them, we may be said to exist, oi 
live, in a state of sensation. When none of our senses are 
affected, or appetites gratified, and yet we perceive and reason 
and act, we may be said to exist or live in a state of reflection. 
Now it is by no means certain, that any thing which is dissolved 
by death is any way necessary to the living being, in this its 
state of reflection, after ideas are gained. For though from 
our present constitution and condition of being, our external 
organs of sense are necessary for conveying in ideas to our 
reflecting powers, as carriages and levers and scaffolds are in 
architecture ; yet when these ideas are brought in, we are ca- 
pable of reflecting in the most intense degree, and of enjoying 
the greatest pleasure, and feeling the greatest pain, by means ol 
that reflection, without any assistance from our senses; and 
without any at all, which we know of, from that body, which 
will be dissolved by death. 

It does not appear then, that the relation of this gross body 
to the reflecting being is, in any degree, necessary to thinking; 
9 * 


:p a future life 


lOz 


[PART 1 


to our intellectual enjoyments or Hiiferings : nor, consequently, 
that the dissolution or alienation of the former by death, wili 
be the destruction of those present powers, which render us 
capable of this state of reflection. Further, there are instances 
of mortal diseases, which do not at all afiect our present intellec- 
tual powers, and this affords a presumption, that those diseases 
will not destroy these present powers. Indeed, from the obser- 
vations made above,* it appears, that there is no presumption, 
from their mutually afiecting each other, that the dissolution of 
the body is the destruction of the living agent. And by the 
same reasoning it must appear too, that there is no presumption, 
from their mutually affecting each other, that the dissolution of 
the body is the destruction of our present reflecting powers ; 
but instances of their not affecting each other, afford a presump- 
tion to the contrary. Instances of mortal diseases not impairing 
Dur present reflecting powers, evidently turn our thoughts even 
from imagining such diseases to be the destruction of them. 
Several things indeed greatly affect all our living powers, and 
at length susp^d the exercise of them ; as for instance drow- 
stiness, increasing till it end in sound sleep : and from hence we 
might have imagined it would destroy them, till we found, by 
experience, the weakness of this way of judging. But in the 
diseases now mentioned, there is not so much as this shadow of 
probability, to lead us to any such conclusion, as to the reflect- 
ing powers which we have at present; for in those diseases, 
persons, the moment before death, appear to be in the highest 
vigour of life. They discover apprehension, memory, reason, 
all entire ; with the utmost force of affection, sense of a charac- 
ter, of shame and honour; and the highest mental enjoyments 
and sufferings, even to the last gasp; and these surely prove 

even greater vigour of life than bodily strength does. Now 

what pretence is there for thinking, that a progressive disease, 
when arrived to such a degree, I mean that degree which is 
mortal, will destroy those powers, which were not impaired, 
which were not affected by it, during its whole progress, quite 
up to that degree ? And if death, by diseases of this kind, is 

not the destruction of our present reflecting powers, it will 

K’arce be thought that death by any other means is. 

It is obvious, that this general observation may be carried on 
fijither: and there appears so little connection between oui 


* Pages 96, 97, 98. 


CHAP. I.} 


OF A FUTURE LIFE. 


iua 

bodily powers of sensation, and our present powers of reflection, 
that there is iio reason to conclude that death, which destroji 
the former, does so much as tiuspend the exercise of the latter, 
or interrupt our continuing to exist in the like state of reflection 
which we do now. For suspension of reason, memory, and the 
affections which they excite, is no part of the idea of death, 
nor is implied in our notion of it. And our daily experiencing 
these powers to be exercised, without any assistance, that we 
know of, from those bodies which will be dissolved by death ; 
and our finding often, that the exercise of them is so lively to 
the last ; these things afford a sensible apprehension, that death 
may not perhaps be so much as a discontinuance of the exercise 
of these powers, nor of the enjoyments and sufferings which it 
implies ;* so that our posthumous life, whatever there may be 
in it additional to our present, yet may not be-entirely begin- 
ning anew, but going on. Death may, in some sort, and in 
some respects, answer to our birth, which is not a suspension 
of the faculties which we had before it, or a total change of the 
state of life in which we existed when in the womb, but a con- 
tinuation of both, with such and such great alterations. 

Nay, for aught we know of ourselves, of our present life, 
and of death, death may immediately, in the natural course of 
things, put us into a higher and more enlarged state of life, as 
our birth does a state in which our capacities and sphere cr^ 
perception and of action, may be much greater than at present. 
For as our relation to our external organs of sense renders us 
capable of existing in our present state of sensation, so it may 
be the only natural hinderance to our existing, immediately and 
of course, in a higher state of reflection. The truth is, reason 

* There are three distinct questions, relating to a future life hero 
considered : Whether death be the destruction of living agents ? If 
not, whether it be the destruction of their present powers of reflection, 
as it certainly is the destruction of their present powers of senoation ? 
and, if not. Whether it be the suspension, or discontinuance of the 
exercise, of these present reflecting powers? Now, if there be no 
reason to believe the last, there will be, if that were possible, less for 
the next, and less still for the first. 

I This, according to Strabo, was the opinion of the Brahmans; 
rofxi^eiv (tiv yap 6r] rdv [iiv ivOdSe ^iov, ws uv dKjxriv Kvo(ttv<i)P tlvai* rlv SI 
Sdparoi', yiveaiv els rdv Sptojs Ptov, Kai tSv tvSainova to7s <j>iXoaotpriaaai. Lib. 

XV. p. 1039. Ed. Amst. 1707. To which opinion, perhaps, Antoninus 
jnay allude in these words, us vuv ztpinivtis, irdrc cjxSpvov Ik tTis yaarp'is 
yviaiieds oov oSrwj tKSi)(^£aOai rrv upav tv v tS y U^dpiSv ffov row i/ / 

y><)T9 rKTiasiTai. Lib. IX. c. 3. 


104 


OP A FUTURE LIFE. 


I PART I 


does not at all show us in what state death naturally loaves us. 
But were we sure that it would suspend all our perceptive and 
active powers, yet the suspension of a power, and the destruo* 
tion of it, are elfects so totally different in kind, as we expe- 
rience from sleep and a swoon, that we cannot in anywise 
argue from ons to the other; or conclude, even to the lowest 
degree of probability, that the same kind of force which is suflS- 
Rent to suspend our faculties, though it be increased ever so 
nuch, will be sufficient to destroy them. 

These observations together may be sufficient to show, how 
little presumption there is that death is the destruction of 
human creatures. However, there is the shadow of an ana- 
logy, which may lead us to imagine it is ; the supposed like- 
ness which is observed between the decay of vegetables and 
living creatures And this likeness is indeed sufficient to afford 
the poets very apt allusions to the flowers of the field, in their 
pictures of the frailty of our present life. But in reason, the 
analogy is so far from holding, that there appears no ground 
even for the comparison, as to the present question ; because 
one of the two subjects compared is wholly void of that, which 
is the principal and chief thing in the other, the power of per- 
ception and of action ; and which is the only thing we are in- 
quiring about the continuance of. So that the destructi »a of a 
vegetable is an event not similar, or analogous, to the destruo- 
tion of a living agent. 

But if, as was above intimated, leaving off the delusive custom 
of substituting imagination in the room of experience, we would 
confine ourselves to what we do know and understand ; if we 
would argue only from that, and from that form our expecta- 
tions, it would appear at first sight, that as no probability of 
living beings ever ceasing to be so, can be concluded from the 
reason of the thing, so none can be collected from the analogy 
of Nature; because we cannot trace any living beings beyond 
death. But as we are conscious that we are endued with capa- 
cities of perception and of action, and are living persons, what 
we are to go upon is, that we shall continue so till we foresee 
gome accident, or event, which will endanger those capacities, 
or bo likely to destroy us ; which death does in nowise appeal 
•0 be. 

And thus, when we go out of this world, we may pass into 
new scenes, and a new state of life and action, just as naturally 
as we came into the present. And this new state mj j natu 


CHAP. I.l 


OP A PUTJRE LIFE. 


lot 

rally be a social one. And the advantages of it, advantages 
every kind, may naturally be bestowed, according to some fixed 
general laws of wisdom, upon every one in proportion to the 
degrees of his virtue. And though the advantages of that 
future natural state should not be bestowed, as these of the pre- 
sent in some measure are, by the will of the society, but entire- 
ly by Ilis more immediate action, upon whom the whole frame 
)i nature depends, yet this distribution may be just as natural, 
ts their being distributed here by the instrumentality of men 
And indeed, thougD one were to allow any confused undeter- 
mined sense, wnich people please to put upon the word natural^ 
it would be a shortness of thought scarce credible to imagine, 
that no system or course of things can be so, but only what we 
see at present;* especially whilst the probability of a future 
life, or the natural immortality of the «oul, is admitted upon 
the evidence of reason; because this is really both admitting 
and denying at once, a state of being different from the present 
to be natural. But the only distinct meaning of the word is, 
stated, fixed, or settled ; since what is natural as much requires 
and presupposes an intelligent agent to render it so, that is, to 
effect it continually, or at stated times, i^s what is supernatural 
or miraculous does to effect it for once. And from hence it 
must follow, that persons^ notion of what is natural will be 
enlarged, in proportion to their greater knowledge of the wurks 
of God, and the dispensations of his Providence. Nor is there 
any absurdity in supposing, that there may be beings in the 
universe, whose capacities, and knowledge, and views, may be 
so extensive, as that the whole Christian dispensation may to 
them appear natural ; that is, analogous or conformable to God’s 
dealings with other parts of his creation ; as natural as the visi- 
ble known course of things appears to us For there seems 
scarce any other possible sense to be put wpon the. word, but 
that only in which it is here used : similar, sUted, or uniform. 

This credibility of a future life, which has b«en here insisted 
upon, how little soever it may satisfy our curiosity, seems to 
answer all the purposes of religion, in like manner as a demon- 
strative proof would. Indeed a proof, even a demonstrative 
one, of a future life, would not be a proof of religion. For that 
VO are to live hereafter, is just as reconcilable with the ocheme 
if atheism, and as well to be accounted for by it, ai tha we ar« 


* &eQ Part ii. ch. 2. and Part ii. ch. 8. 


106 


OF A FUTURE LIFE. 


[PART 1. 

Aow alive is ; and therefore nothing can be more absurd than to 
argue from that scheme, that there can be no future state. But 
as religion implies a future state, any presumption against such 
a state is a presumption against religion. And the foregoing 
observations remove all presumptions of this sort, and prove, to a 
very considerable degree of probability, one fundamental doctrine 
of religion ; which, if believed, would greatly open and dispose 
the mind seriously to attend to the general evidence of the whola 

[The difficulty of part (P. 95, &c.) of this chapter grows out of 
the fact that Butler goes beyond the analogical argument, and en- 
deavours to establish a demonstrative proof of our immortality. The 
best comment on it, with which we have met, is the following fi’om 
Dr. Chalmers: 

“ This chapter is infected by the obscure metaphysics which ob- 
tained in England at the commencement of the last century, which 
even the reasonings of Clarke have not been able to sustain ; and 
which, when disjoined from his talent, as in the pages of Wollaston, 
and throughout the greater part of the Boyle lectureship, betrays the 
same sort of mysticism, the same want of clearness and conclusive- 
ness, as do the scholastic subtleties of the Middle Ages. We allude 
more particularly to what Butler says of the indivisibility of con- 
sciousness, and to the confident inference that he would found there- 
upon as to the simple and so indestructible nature of the agent in 
which this uncompounded faculty resides — reminding us of certain 
argumentations which are still to be heard on the immateriality, as a 
groand for believing in the immortality of the human soul. And 
neither can we admit with him that because we have no positive 
reason for believing death to be destruction of the living agent, 
there is the same ground for believing him to be still alive that there 
is for our natural faith in the continuance of anything. If this con 
sideration hold true, then, instead of its yielding but a dim or slender 
probability, it presents us with an absolute demonstration. Not as 
if Butler thought of analogy that it constitutes this argument ; but 
he evidently thinks that it hands us over to it. * * * * "^ * 

It is not enough to say that the entire self survives the loss of a limb. 
The conclusion is, that therefore it may survive the loss or separation 
of the whole body — very dilierent truly from the conclusion which 
is more than hinted at in this chapter, that the soul must so survive 
it. In all instances which are alleged here of mutilation or destruc- 
tion, we have the remaining sensible proof for the continuance cf the 
living powers. In the grand or final destruction of the whole body, 
we have nc such proof; and this must be supplied from another 
source than from the analogy itself, which has demonstrated but the 
jpossty and not the esse of the soul’s immortality. It has not supplied 
the pruof, but only removed every bar in the way of it.” — Lectureg 
on Butler’s Analogy, Posthumous Works, vol. ix. p. 62. See also ex- 
amination of the argument of Butler’s 1st chapter, in Duke’s Analy- 
sis, Appendix, p 76.] 


on^p II,] 


OF THE GOVERNMENT OP GOD. 


107 


CHAP II. 

Of the Government of God by Rewards and Punishments, 
and particularly of the latter. 

* That which makes the question concerning a future life to 
be of so great importance to us, is our capacity of happiness 
and misery. And that which makes the consideration of it to 
be of so great importance to us, is the supposition of our hap- 
; piness and misery hereafter, depending upon our actions here. 
Without this indeed, curiosity could not but sometimes bring 
a subject, in which we may be so highly interested, to our 
•houghts ; especially upon the mortality of others, or the near 
wospect of our own. But reasonable men would not take any 
arther thought about hereafter, than what should happen thus 
occasionally to rise in their minds, if it were certain, that our 
future interest no way depended upon our present behaviour ; 
whereas, on the contrary, if there be ground, either from anal 
ogy or any thing else, to think it does ; then there is reason 
also for the most active thought and solicitude, to secure that 
interest ; to behave so as that we may escape that misery, and 
obtain that happiness in another life, which we not only suppose 
ourselves capable of, but which we apprehend also is put in our 
own power. And whether there be ground for this last appre- 
hension, certainly would deserve to be most seriously considered, 
were there no other proof of a future life and interest, than that 
presumptive one, which the foregoing observations amount to. 

Now, in the present state, all which we enjoy, and a great 
part of what we sujQfer, is put in our own power. For pleasure 
. and pain are the consequences of our actions ; and we are en- 
; dued by the Author of our nature with capacities of foreseeing 
! these consequences. We find by experience he does not so much 
I as preserve our lives, exclusively of our own care and attention, 
/ to provide ourselves with, and to make use of that sustenance, by 
' which he has appointed our lives shall be preserved; and- with- 
/ out which, he has appointed, they shall not be preserved at all. 
^ A.nd in general we foresee, that the external things, which are 
the objects of our various passions, can neither be obtained nor 
enjoyed without exerting ourse’^^es in such and such manners. 


108 


OF THE GOVERNMENT OF GOD 


[PART 1 

but by thus exerting ourselves, we obtain and enj •)y these jb* 
jects, in which our natural good consists; or by this means God 
gives us the possession and enjoyment of them. I know not 
that we have any one kind or degree of enjoyment, but by the 
means of our own actions. And by prudence and care, we may, 
for the most part, pass our days in tolerable ease and quiet : or, 
on the contrary, we may by rashness, ungoverned passion, wil- 
fulness, or even by negligence, make ourselves as 'miserable as 
'jver we please. And many do please to make themselves ex- 
tremely miserable, that is, to do what they know beforehand 
will render them so. They follow those ways, the fruit of which 
they know, by instruction, example, experience, will be disgrace, 
and poverty, and sickness, and untimely death. This every 
one observes to be the general course of things ; though it is to 
be allowed, we cannot find by experience, that all our suflferings 
are owing to our own follies. 

Why the Author of Nature does not give his creatures pro- 
miscuously such and such perceptions, without regard to their 
behaviour ; why he does not make them happy without the in- 
strumentality of their own actions, and prevent their bringing 
any sufferings upon themselves, is another matter.* Perhaps 
there may be some impossibilities in the nature of things whicl 

* [Butler here hints at several possible solutions of the old athe 
istical dilemma. God prevents not evil, either because He cannot, or 
because He will not. If He cannot. He is not Almighty. If He will 
not. He is not All-good. Butler shows us that neither conclusion can 
be safely drawn. The supposition that God cannot remove these evils 
does not necessarily imply any defect in power; because, for any 
thing we know to the contrary, the removal of them might involve a 
contradiction, and not to be able to do what is self-contradictory and 
impossible in the notion of it, is plainly no limitation of power. The 
supposition that, though He can. He will not remove them, does not 
necessarily imply a defect of benevolence, even taking benevolence in 
the sense of a simple desire of causing the greatest possible amount 
of happiness. Because it is possible that the happiness resulting from 
ft good use made of a state of trial by free beings, may, in the nature 
of it, be so much greater than what would result from any other 
method, as to make the sum of happiness so obtained, even when all 
the present incidental miseries have been deducted from it, larger than 
could be procured by providing against their contingency. Nor, even 
apposing that God’s not choosing to remove the sources of these evils 
mplied a defect of benevolence in the sense explained above, would 
t be certain that it implied a defect of benevolence as it is a real 
perfection. For supreme benevolence may not be a dispesidon aimplj 
to make beings happy, l^jut to make gcod bti/ugs happy - - F ] 


CHAP. II. I BY REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. 10^ 

fre are uuacquainted with : * or less happiness, it may be would 
be produced by such a method of conduct, than is by tne pre- 
sent ; or, perhaps. Divine goodness, with which, if I mistake 
not, we make very free in our speculations, may not be a bare 
single disposition to produce happiness; but a disposition to 
make the good, the hxithful, the honest man happy. Perhaps 
an infinitely perfect Mind may be pleased, with seeing his crea- 
tures behave suitably to the nature which he has given them ; 
k) the relations which he has placed them in to each other ; and 
tG that which they stand in to himself; that relation to himself, 
which, during their existence, is even necessary, and which is 
the most important one of all. Perhaps, I say, an infinitely 
perfect Mind may be pleased with this moral piety of morai 
agents in and for itself, as well as upon account of its being 
essentially conducive to the happiness of his creation. Or the 
whole end, for which God made, and thus governs the world, 
may be utterly beyond the reach of our faculties : there may b<i 
somewhat in it as impossible for us to have any conception of^ 
as for a blind man to have a conception of colours. But how 
ever this be, it is certain matter of universal experience, that 
the general method of Divine administration is, forewarning 
us, or giving us capacities to foresee, with more or less clearness, 
that if we act so and so, we shall have such enjoyments, if so 
and so, such sufferings; and giving us those enjoyments, and 
making us feel those sufferings, in consequence of our actions. 

“ But all this is to be ascribed to the general course of na* 
ture.’^ True. This is the very thing which I am observing. 
It is to be ascribed to the general course of nature ; that is, 
not surely to the words or ideas, course of nature, but to him 
who appointed it, and put things into it : or to a course of ope- 
ration, from its uniformity or constancy, called natural,^ and 
which necessarily implies an operating agent. For when men 
find themselves necessitated to confess an Author of nature, or 
that God is the natural Governor of the world, they must not 
deny this again, because his government is uniform ; they must 
cot deny that he does all things at all, because he does them 
constantly; because the effects of his acting are permanent, 
whether his acting be so or not ; though there is no reason tc 
think it is not. In short, every man, in every thing he docs 
liatarally acts upon the forethought and apprehensioD of avoid 


« Ghap. vii f Page* 1 01 106 

10 


no 


OY THE GOVERNMENT OF GOD 


[PART I 


ing evil, ot obtaining good : and if the natural course of things 
be the appointment of God, and our natural faculties of knoW' 
ledge and experience are given us by him, then the good and 
bad consequences which follow our actions are his appointment, 
Rnd our foresight of those consequences is a warning given ua 
\y him, how we are to act. 

“ Is the pleasure then, naturally accompanying every par- 
ticular gratification of passion, intended to put us upon gratify* 
iag ourselves in every such particular instance, and as a reward 
to us for so doing No certainly. Nor is it to be said, that 
our eyes were naturally intended to give us the sight of each 
particular object to which they do or can extend j objects 
which are destructive of them, or which, for any other reason,, 
it may become us to turn our eyes from. Yet there is no 
doubt, but that our eyes were intended for us to see with. Sc 
neither is there any doubt, but that the foreseen pleasures and 
pains, belonging to the passions, were intended, in general, to 
induce mankind to act in such and such manners. 

Now from this general observation, obvious to every one, 
that God has given us to understand he has appointed satisfac- 
tion and delight to be the consequence of our acting in one 
manner, and pain and uneasiness of our acting in another, and 
of our not acting at all ; and that we find the consequences, 
which we were beforehand informed of, uniformly to follow ; 
we may learn, that we are at present actually under his govern- 
ment, in the strictest and most proper sense j in such a sense, 
vs that he rewards and punishes us for our actions. An Author 
')f Nature being supposed, it is not so much a deduction of 
/“cason as a matter of experience, that we are thus under his 
government; under his government, in the same sense as we 
are under the government of civil magistrates. Because the 
annexing pleasure to some actions, and pain to others, in our 
power to do or forbear, and giving notice of this appointment 
jbeforehand to those whom it concerns, is the proper formal 
notion of government. Whether the pleasure or pain which 
thus follows upon our behaviour, be owing to tho Author of 
Nature’s acting upon us every moment which we feel it, or to his 
having at once contrived and executed his own part in the plan 
of the world, makes no alteration as to the matter before us- 
For if civil magistrates could make the sanctions of their laws 
Uake place, without interposing at all, after they had passed 
(hem ; without a tiial, and the formalities of execution : if 


3HAP. II.] BY REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. Ill 

they were able to make their laws execute themselves, or every 
offender to execute them upon himself, we should be just in the 
same sense under their government then, as we are now ; but 
in a much higher degree, and more perfect manner. Vain is 
the ridicule with which one sees some persons will divert them- 
selves, upon finding lesser pains considered as instances o* 
divine punishment. There is no possibility of answering or 
evading the general thing here intended, without denying all 
final causes. For final causes being admitted, the pleasure!.' 
and pains now mentioned must be admitted too, as instancea 
of them. And if they are ; if God annexes delight to some 
actions and uneasiness to others, with an apparent design to 
induce us to act so and so, then he not only dispenses happiness 
arid misery, but also rewards and punishes actions. If, for 
example, the pain which we feel upon doing what tends to the 
destruction of our bodies, suppose upon too near approaches to 
fire, or upon wounding ourselves, be appointed by the Autho.r 
of Nature to prevent our doing what thus tends to our destruc- 
tion ; this is altogether as much an instance of his punishing 
our actions, and consequently of our being under his govern- 
ment, as declaring, by a voice from heaven, that if we acted so, 
he would inflict such pain upon us, and inflicting it whether it 
be greater or less. 

Thus we find, that the true notion or conception of the 
Author of Nature, is that of a master or governor, prior to the 
consideration of his moral attributes. The fact of our case, 
which we find by experience, is, that he actually exercises 
dominion or government over us at present, by rewarding and 
punishing us for our actions, in as strict and proper a sense of 
these words, and even in the same sense as children, servants, 
subjects, are rewarded and punished, by those who govern 
them. 

And thus the whole analogy of nature, the whole present 
course of things, most fully shows, that there is nothing incre* 
dible in the general doctrine of religion, that God will reward 
and punish men for their actions hereafter; nothing incre- 
dible, I mean, arising out of the notion of rewarding and pun- 
ishing, for the whole course of nature is a present instance of 
his exercising that government over us, which implies in ii 
rewarding and punishing. 


112 OF THE GOVERNMENT OF GOD [TAB i 

But, as divine punishment is what men chiefly objee.t againsti 
and are most unwilling to allow, it may be proper to mention 
some circumstances in the natural course of punishments at 
present, which are analogous to what religion teaches us con* 
cerning a future state of punishment : indeed, so analogous, that 
as they add a farther credibility to it, so they cannot but raise 
a most serious apprehension of it in those who will attend to 
'hem. 

It has been now observed, that such and such miseries natu- 
rally follow such and such actions of imprudence and wilful- 
ness, as well as actions more commonly and more distinctly 
considered as vicious ; and that these consequences, when they 
may be foreseen, are properly natural punishments annexed to 
such actions. For the general thing here insisted upon is, not 
that we see a great deal of misery in the world, but a great 
deal which men bring upon themselves by their own behaviour, 
which they might have foreseen and avoided. Now, the cir- 
cumstances of these natural punishments, particularly deserving 
our attention, are such as these : That oftentimes they follow, 
or are inflicted in consequence of actions which procure many 
present advantages, and are accompanied with much present 
pleasure ; for instance, sickness and untimely death is the con- 
sequence of intemperance, though accompanied with the highest 
mirth and jollity : That these punishments are often much 
greater than the advantages or pleasures obtained by the actions, 
of which they are the punishments or consequences : That though 
we may imagine a constitution of nature, in which these natural 
punishments, which are in fact to follow, would follow imme- 
diately upon such actions being done, or very soon after; we 
find, on the contrary, in our world, that they are often delayed 
a great while, sometimes even till long after the actions occa- 
sioning them are forgot; so that the constitution of nature is 
such, that delay of punishment is no sort nor degree of pre- 
sumption of final impunity : That after such delay, these natu- 
ral punishments or miseries often come, not by degrees, but 
suddenly, with violence, and at once — however, the chief 
misery often does : That as certainty of such distant misery 
following such actions is never afforded persons, so perhaps 
during the actions, they have seldom a distinct full expectation 
its following and many times the case is or ly thus, that 


See Part ii. chap, 6. 


OJAP. II.J BY REWARDS AND PUNISJ[MENTS. 113 

they see in general, or may see, the credibility, that lncempe^ 
ance, suppose, will bring after it diseases; civil crimes, civil 
punishments ; when yet the real probability often is, that they 
shall escape : but things notwithstanding take their destined 
course, and the misery inevitably follows at its appointed time, 
in very many of these cases. Thus also though youth may 
le alleged as an excuse for rashness and folly, as being natu- 
rally thoughtless, and not clearly foreseeing all the conse- 
quences of being untractablc and profligate; this does not 
hinder but that these consequences follow, and are grievously 
felt, throughout the whole course of mature life. Habits con- 
tracted, even in that age, are often utter ruin : and men’s suc- 
cess in the world, not only in the common sense of worldly 
success, but their real happiness and misery, depends in a 
great degree, and in various ways, upon the manner in which 
they pass their youth ; which consequences they, for the most 
part, neglect to consider, and perhaps seldom can properly be 
said to believe beforehand. It requires also to be mentioned, 
that, in numberless cases, the natural course of things affords 
us opportunities for procuring advantages to ourselves at certain 
times, which Tve cannot procure when we will ; nor ever recall 
the opportunities, if we have neglected them. Indeed, the 
general course of nature is an example of this. If, during the 
opportunity of youth, persons are indocile and self-willed, they 
inevitably suffer in their future life, for want of those acquire- 
ments which they neglected the natural season of attaining 
If the husbandman lets his seed-time pass without sowing, the 
whole year is lost to him beyond recovery. In like manner, 
though after men have been guilty of folly and extravagance, 
up to a certain degree^ it is often in their power, for instance, 
to retrieve their affairs, to recover their health and character, 
at least in good measure; yet real reformation is, in many 
cases, of no avail at all towards preventing the miseries, 
poverty, sickness, infamy, naturally annexed to folly and extra- 
vagance, exceeding that degree. There is a certain bound to 
imprudence and misbehaviour, which being transgressed, there 
remains no place for repentance in the ratural course of things. 
It is, further, very much to be remarked, that neglects from 
inconsiderateness, want of attention,* not looking about us to 
ice what we have to do, are often attended with consequencet 


10 * 


Part ii. chap. 6. 


114 OP THE GOVERNMENT OF GOO [PART L 

altogotlicr as dreadful as any active misbehaviour, from the most 
extravagant j assion. And lastly, civil government being natural, 
the punishments of it are so too^ and some of these punishments 
are capital, as the effects of a dissolute course of pleasure arc 
often mortal. So that many natural punishments are final* to 
him who incurs them, if considered only in his temporal capa- 
city; and seem inflicted by natural appointment, either to remove 
the offender out of the way of being further mischievous, or as 
».o example, though frequently a disregarded one, to those who 
are left behind. 

These things are not what we call accidental, or to be met 
with only now and then ; but they are things of ever}" day^s ex- 
perience ; they proceed from general laws, very general ones, by 
which God governs the world, in the natural course of his pro- 
vidence. And they are so analogous to what religion teaches 
us concerning the future punishment of the wicked, so much of 
a piece with it, that both would naturally be expressed in the 
very same words and manner of description. In the book of 
Proverbs, for instance. Wisdom is introduced as frequenting the 
most public places of resort, and as rejected when she offers 
herself as the natural appointed guide of human life. ^‘How 
long” speaking to those who are passing through it, ^^how long, 
ye simple ones, will ye love folly, and the scorners delight in 

* The general consideration of a future state of punishment most 
evidently belongs to the subject of natural religion. But if any of 
these reflections should be thought to relate more peculiarly to this 
doctrine as taught in Scripture ; the reader is desired to observe, that 
Gentile writers, both moralists and poets, speak of the future punish- 
ment of the wicked, both as to the duration and degree of it, in a like 
manner of expression and description, as the Scripture does. So that 
all which can positively be asserted to be matter of mere revelation, 
with regard to this doctrine, seems to be, that the great distinction 
between the righteous and the wicked, shall be made at the end of 
this world ; that each shall then receive according to his deserts. Rea- 
son did, as it well might, conclude that it should, finally and upon the 
whole, be well with the righteous, and ill with the wicked : but it could 
not be determined, upon any principles of reason, whether human 
creatures might not have been appointed to pass through other states 
of life and being, before that distributive justice should, finally and 
efleotually, take place. Revelation teaches us, that the next state of 
things after the present, is appointed for the execution of this jus- 
r.ce; that it shall be no longer delayed: but the mystery of God, the 
great mystery of his suffering vice and confusion to prevail, shall ihm 
be finished; and he will lake to him his great power and will reign, bj 
enderiug to every one according to his works 


CHAP. II.J BY REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. 


115 


their scorning, and fools hale knowledge'^ Turn ye at my re 
proof Behold I will pour out my Spirit upon you, I will make 
known my words unto you.’' But upon being neglected, “Be. 
cause I have called, and ye refused, I have stretched out my 
hand, and no man regarded; but ye have set at nought all my 
counsel, and would none of my reproof: I also will laugh at 
your calamity, I will mock when your fear cometh ; when your 
fear cometh as a desolation, and your destruction cometh as a 
whirlwind ; when distress and anguish cometh upon you. Then 
shall they call upon me, but 1 will not anstver ; they shall seek 
me early, hut they shall not find me.” This passage, every one 
sees, is poetical, and some parts of it are highly figurative ; but 
their meaning is obvious. And the thing intended is expressed 
more literally in the following words : “ For that they hated 
knowledge, and did not choose the fear of the Lord ; therefore 
shall they eat of the fruit of their own way, and be filled with 
their own devices. For the security of the simple shall slay 
them, and the prosperity of fools shall destroy them.” And the 
whole passage is so equally applicable to what we experience in 
the present world, concerning the consequences of men^s actions, 
and to what religion teaches us is to be expected in another, 
that it may be questioned which of the two was principally in- 
tended. 

Indeed, when one has been recollecting the proper proofs of 
i future state of rewards and punishments, nothing methinka 
can give one so sensible an apprehension of the latter, or repre- 
sentation of it to the mind, as observing, that after the many 
disregarded checks, admonitions and warnings, which people 
meet with in the ways of vice, and folly, and extravagance; 
warnings from their very nature ; from the examples of others ; 
from the lesser inconveniences which they bring upon them- 
selves ; from the instructions of wise and virtuous men ; after 
these have been long despised, scorned, ridiculed ; after the chief 
bad consequences, temporal consequences, of their follies, have 
been delayed for a great while ; at length they break in irre- 
sistibly, like an armed force; repentance is too late to relieve, 
and can serve only to aggravate their distress : the case is be- 
come desperate ; and poverty and sickness, remorse and anguish, 
infamy and death, the effects of their own doings, overwhelm 
them beyond possibility of remedy or escape. This is an ac- 
oount of what is in fact the general constitution of nature. 

It is not in any sort meant, that according to what appears ai 


IJ6 OP THE GOVERNMENT OP GOD. [PART 1 

present of the natural course of things, men arc always uni 
formly punished in proportion to their misbehaviour ; but that 
there are very many instances of misbehaviour punished in the 
ways now mentioned, and very dreadful instances too, suflScient 
to "show what the laws of the universe may admit ; and if 
thoroughly considered, sufficient fully to answer all objections 
against the credibility of a future state of punishments, from 
any imaginations, that the frailty of our nature and external 
temptations almost annihilate the guilt of human vices : as well 
k8 objections of another sort; from necessity; from suppositions 
that the will of an infinite Being cannot be contradicted ; or that 
he must be incapable of offence and provocation.* 

Reflections of this kind are not without their terrors to serious 
persons, the most free from enthusiasm, and of the greatest 
strength of mind ; but it is fit things be stated and considered 
as they really are. And there is, in the present age, a certain 
fearlessness with regard to what may be hereafter under the 
government of Grod, which nothing but an universally acknow- 
ledged demonstration on the side of atheism can justify, and 
which makes it quite necessary that man be reminded, and if 
possible, made to feel, that there is no sort of ground for being 
thus presumptuous, even upon the most sceptical principles. 
For, may it not be said of any person, upon his being born into 
the world, he may behave so as to be of no service to it, but by 
being made an example of the woful effects of vice and folly; 
that he may, as any one may, if he will, incur an infamous 
execution from the hands of civil justice; or in some other 
course of extravagance shorten his days ; or bring upon himself 
infamy and diseases worse than death ? So that it had been 
better for him, even with regard to the present world, that he 
had never been born. And is there any pretenoe of reason for 
people to think themselves secure, and talk as if they had cer* 
tain proof, that let them act as licentiously as they will, there 
can be nothing analogous to this, with regard to a future anO 
mom general interest, under the providence and government of 
the same God ? 


* See Chap. iv. aud vi 


OH\P. JII.J MORAL GOVERNMENT DP GOD. 


117 


CHAR III. 

Of the Moral Government of God * 

As the manifold appearances of design, and of finai ca^ea. 
la ilic constitution of the world, prove it to be the work of an 
Intelligent Mind, so the particular final causes of pleasure and 
pain, distributed amongst his creatures, prove that they are 
under his government — what may be called, his natural govern- 
ment of creatures endued with sense and reason. This, how- 
ever, implies somewhat more than seems usually attended to, 
when we speak of God’s natural government of the world. It 
implies government of the very same kind with that which a 
master exercises over his servants, or a, civil magistrate over 
his subjects. These latter instances of final causes as really 
prove an intelligent Governor of the world, in the sense now 
mentioned, and beforef distinctly treated of, as any other in- 
stances of final causes prove an intelligent Maker of it. 

But this alone does not appear, at first sight, to determine 
any thing certainly, concerning the moral character of the 
Author of Nature, considered in this relation of governor; 
does not ascertain his government to be moral, or prove that 

* [The subject of the present chapter is as distinct from that of the 
former, as the generic idea of a government is distinct from the more 
particular idea of it as possessed of a certain character, or as being 
of a certain kind and species. If certain actions are followed up by 
pleasure and others by pain, and these are known beforehand, so that 
the agent can foresee the consequence of his doings, even as he would 
have done if under a proclaimed law, which told at the same time of 
its own rewards and its own penalties, these are enough of them- 
selves ta constitute a government having its regulations which are 
known, and its sanctions which are executed. So much for govern- 
ment in the general ; but should it be found among these general 
phenomena, that those actions which are righteous were followed up 
by pleasure, and those actions which are wicked were followed up by 
pain, this would present us with a moral government enveloped, as it 
were, in the general and natural ; and it is to the manifestations of 
such a government in the course and constitution of nature that th* 
author now addresses bis observations. — Chalmers.^ 

I Chap. 2. 


118 


OP THE MORAL 


[PART I 


he is the ngiiteous Judge of the world. Moral goverrimcnl 
consists, not barely in rewarding and punishing men for their 
actions, which the most tyrannical person may do ; but in re- 
warding the righteous, and punishing the wicked ; in rendering 
to men according to their actions, considered as good or evil. 
And the perfection of moral government consists in doing this, 
with regard to all intelligent creatures, in an exact proportion 
to their personal merits or demerits. 

Some men seem to think the only character of the Author 
C'f Nature to be that of simple absolute benevolence. This, 
sonsidered as a principle of action, and infinite in degree, is a 
disposition to produce the greatest possible happiness, without 
regard to persons’ behaviour, otherwise than as such regard 
would produce higher degrees of it. And supposing this to be 
the only character of Grod, veracity and justice in him would be 
nothing bat benevolence conducted by wisdom. Now surely 
this ought not to be asserted, unless it can be proved; for wo 
should speak with cautious reverence upon such a subject. And 
whether it can be proved or not, is not the thing here to be in- 
quired into ; but whether, in the constitution and conduct of 
the world, a righteous government be not discernibly planned 
out; which necessarily implies a righteous governor. There 
may possibly be in the creation, beings to whom the Author of 
Nature manifests himself under this most amiable of all charac- 
ters, this of infinite absolute benevolence; for it is the most 
amiable, supposing it not, as perhaps it is not, incompatible 
with justice : but he manifests himself to us under the cha- 
racter of a righteous governor. He may, consistently with this, 
be simply and absolutely benevolent, in the sense now explain 
ed ; but he is, for he has given us a proof in the constitution 
and conduct of the world, that he is a governor over servants, 
as he rewards and punishes us for our actions. And in the 
constitution and conduct of it, he may also have given, besides 
the reason of the thing, and the natural presages of conscience, 
clear and distinct intimations that his government is righteous 
or moral — clear to such as think the nature of it deserving 
their attention ; and yet not to every careless person who casta 
a transient reflection upon the subject.* 

* The objections against religion, from the evidence of it not being 
ouivcrsal, nor so strong as might possibly ha\re been, may be urged 
against natural religion, as well as against revealed. And therefore 
the consideration of them belongs to the first part of this Treatise, 


cHAr. ni.J 


GOVERNMENT OE GOD. 


119 


But it is particularly to be observed, that the divine govern* * 
dent, which we experience ourselves under in the present state, 
taken alone, is allowed not to be the perfection of moral govern- 
ment.* And yet this by no means hinders, but that there may 
be somewhat, be it more or less, truly moral in it. A righteous 
government may plainly appear to be carried on to some de* 
gree ; enough to give us the apprehension that it shall be com- 
pleted, or carried on to that degree of perfection which religion 
teaches us it shall ; but which cannot appear, till much more 
of the divine administration be seen, than can in the present 
Ufe. And the design of this chapter is to inquire, how for this 
is the case; how far, over and above the moral naturef which 
G-cd has given us, and our natural notion of him, as righteous 
governor of those his creatures to whom he has given this na- 
ture I say how for, besides this, the principles and beginnings 
of a moral government over the world may be discerned, not- 
withstanding and amidst all the confusion and disorder of it. 

Now, one might mention here, what has been often urged 
with great force, that, in general, less uneasiness, and more 
satisfaction, are the natural consequences! of a virtuous than of 
a vicious course of life, in the present state, as an instance of a 


as well as the second. But as these objections are chiefly urged 
against revealed religion, I chose to consider them in the second 
Part. And the answer to them there, chap. vi. as urged against 
Christianity, being almost equally applicable to them as urged against 
the Religion of Nature, to avoid repetition, the reader is referred to 
that chapter. 

* [Butler seems here to indicate the distinction between religious 
and irreligious optimism. Irreligious optimism considers the present 
state of things as absolutely the best. Religious optimism considers it 
as imperfect in itself, but necessary for bringing about that state 
which is absolutely the best possible. But this best possible must, as 
Bishop Hamilton (On the Attributes, p. 189), has very truly remark- 
ed, be understood with reference to such beings as men ; not to mean 
the best possible scheme of created things, because no such scheme 
can bo conceived. The diflFerence between finite and infinite perfec- 
tion must always be infinite, so that, however excellent we may sup- 
pose any one scheme of created things, there will still remain the 
possibility of another more perfect in infinitum. See on the general 
subject of the two schemes of optimism, Warburton’s Reply to Cronsai 
Criticism on Pope; and Johnson’s Review of Jenyn’s Essay npon th« 
Origin of Evil. F.] 

f Dissertation 2. J Chap. C. 

g See Lord Sliaftesbury’s Inquiry concerning Virtue, Part 2. 


120 


OF THE MORAL 


[PART I 

moral government established in nature ; an instance of it, col- 
lected from experience and present matter of fact. But it must 
be owned a thing of difficulty to weigh and balance pleasures 
and uneasinesses, each amongst themselves, and also against each 
other, so as to make an estimate with any exactness, of the 
overplus of happiness on the side of virtue. And it is not im- 
possible that, amidst the infinite disorders of the world, there 
may be exceptions to the happiness of virtue, even with regard 
to those persons whose course of life, from their youth up, has 
been blameless ; and more with regard to those who have gone 
on for some time in the ways of vice, and have afterwards re- 
formed. For suppose an instanoe of the latter case ; a person 
with bis passions inflamed, his natural faculties of self-govern- 
ment impaired by habits of indulgence, and with all his vices 
about him, like so many harpies, craving for their accustomed 
gratification, — who can say, how long it might be before such 
a person would find more satisfaction in the reasonableness and 
present good consequences of virtue, than difficulties and self- 
denial in the restraints of it ? Experience also shows, that men 
can, to a great degree, get over their sense of shame, so as that 
by professing themselves to be without principle, and avowing 
even direct villany, they can support themselves against the in- 
famy of it. But as the ill actions of any one will probably be 
more talked of, and oftener thrown in his way, upon his refor- 
mation ; so the infamy of them will be much more felt, after 
the natural sense of virtue and of honour is recovered. Uneasi- 
ness of this kind ought indeed to be put to the account of former 
sdces ; yet it will be said, they are in part the consequences of 
reformation. Still I am far from allowing it doubtful whether 
virtue, upon the whole, be happier than vice in the present 
world : but if it were, yet the beginnings of a righteous admin- 
istration may, beyond all question, be found in nature, if we 
will attentively inquire after them. And, 

I. In whatever manner the notion of God’s moral government 
over the world might be treated, if it did not appear whether he 
were, in a proper sense, our governor at all ; yet when it is cer- 
tain matter of experience, that he does manifest himself to ua 
under the character of a governor, in the sense explained,* it 
must deserve to be considered, whether there be not reason t<D 
apprehend that he may be a righteous or moral governor. Siucje 


* Chap. 2. 


CHAP. JII.] 


GOVERNMENT OF GOO. 


J2l 

it appears to be fact, that Grod does govern mankind by the 
method of rewards and punishments, according to some settled 
rules of distribution, it is surely a question to be asked, What 
presumption is there against his finally rewarding and punishing 
them according to this particular rule, namely, as they act rea- 
sonably or unreasonably, virtuously or viciously? since rendering 
man happy or miserable by this rule, certainly falls in, much 
more falls in, with our natural apprehensions and sense of things, 
than doing so by any other rule whatever ; since rewarding and 
punishing actions by any other rule would appear much harder 
to be accounted for by minds formed as he has formed ours. Be 
the evidence of religion then more or less clear, the expectation 
which it raises in us, that the righteous shall, upon the whole, 
be happy, and the wicked miserable, cannot, however, possibly 
be considered as absurd or chimerical ; because it is no more 
than an expectation, that a method of government already be- 
gun, shall be carried on, the method of rewarding and punishing 
actions ; and shall be carried on by a particular rule, which un- 
avoidably appears to us, at first sight, more natural than any 
other, the rule which we call distributive justice. Nor, 

II. Ought it to be entirely passed over, that tranquillity, 
satisfaction and external advantages, being the natural conse- 
quences of prudent management of ourselves and our affairs ; 
and rashness, profligate negligence, and wilful folly, bringing 
after them many inconveniences and sufferings; these afford 
instances of a right constitution of nature : as the correction of 
children for their own sakes, and by way of example, when they 
run into danger or hurt themselves, is a part of right education. 
And thus, that God governs the world by general fixed laws ; 
that he has endued us with capacities of reflecting upon this 
constitution of things, and foreseeing the good and bad conse- 
quences of our behaviour, plainly implies some sort of moral 
government : since from such a constitution of things, it cannot 
bat follow, that prudence and imprudence, which are of the 
nature of virtue and vice,* must be, as they are, respectively 
rewarded and punished. 

III. From the natural course of things, vicious actions arc, 
to a great degree, actually punished as mischievous to society; 
and besides punishment actually inflicted upon this account, 
there is also the fear and apprehension of it in those perscnf 


11 


* See Dissertation II. 


122 


OF THE MORAL 


[I* ART 1 

whose critnes have rendered them obnoxious to it, iu jase of a 
discovery; this state of fear being itself often a very considerap 
ble punishment. The natural fear and apprehension of it toOj 
which restrains from such crimes, is a declaration of nature 
against them. It is necessary to the very being of society, that 
vices destructive of it should be punished as being so : the vices 
of falsehood, injustice, cruelty : which punishment therefore is 
as natural as society, and so is an instance of a kind of moral 
government, naturally established, and actually taking place 
And since the certain natural course of things is the conduct of 
pi vidence, or the government of God, though carried on by the 
instrumentality of men, the observation here made amounts to 
this, that mankind find themselves placed by him in such cir- 
cumstances, as that they are unavoidably accountable for their 
behaviour, and are often punished, and sometimes rewarded, 
under his government, in the view of their being mischievous 
or eminently beneficial to society. 

If it be objected, that good actions, and such as are beneficial 
to society, are often punished, as in the case of persecution, and 
in other cases, and that ill and mischievous actions are often re- 
warded ; it may be answered distinctly, first, that this is in no 
sort necessary, and consequently not natural in the sense in which 
it is necessary, and therefore natural, that ill or mischievous 
actions should be punished ; and in the next place, that good 
actions are never punished, considered as beneficial to society, 
nor ill actions rewarded, under the view of their being hurtful tO' 
it.* So that it stands good, without any thing on the side of 
vice to be set over against it, that the Author of Nature has as 
truly directed that vicious actions, considered as mischievous to 
society, should be punished, and put mankind under a necessity 
of thus punishing them, as he has directed and necessitated us 
to preserve our lives by food. 

VI. In the natural course of things, virtue, as such, is actu- 
ally rewarded, and vice, as such, punished; which seems to 
afford an instance, or example, not only of government, but of 
moral government begun and established ; moral in the strictest 
sense, though not in that perfection of degree which religion 
teaches us to expect. In order to see this more clearly, we 

* [ These vicious actions are never rewarded because they are vicious 
Dut though they are vicious ; and virtuous actions are sometimes pun- 
ished, yet never as virtuous, or never because virtuous, but though 
▼irtuous. — Chalmers.'] 


CHA.P. 111.] 


GOVERNMENT OE GOD. 


123 


must distinguish between actions themselves, and that q nalitj 
dscribed to them, which we call virtuous or vicious. The 
gratification itself of every natural passion must be attended 
with delight; and acquisitions of fortune, however made, are 
acquisitions of the means or materials of enjoymeni. An action, 
then, by which any natural passion is gratified, or fortune ac- 
quired, procures delight or advantage, abstracted from all con- 
sideration of the morality of such action. Consequently, the 
pleasure or advantage in this case, is gained by the action itself, 
cot by the morality, the virtuousness or viciousness of it, though 
it bo, perhaps, virtuous or vicious. Thus, to say such an action 
or course of behaviour, procured such pleasure or advantage, oi 
brought on such inconvenience and pain, is quite a ditlerent 
thing from saying that such good or bad effect was owing tc 
the virtue or vice of such action or behaviour. In one case, an 
action, abstracted from all moral consideration, produced its 
effect ; in the other case, for it will appear that there are such 
cases, the morality of the action, the action under a moral con- 
sideration, that is, the virtuousness or viciousness of it, produced 
the efiect. Now I say virtue, as such, naturally procures con- 
siderable advantages to the virtuous; and vice, as such, natural- 
ly occasions great inconvenience, and even misery, to the vicious, 
in very many instances. The immediate effects of virtue and 
vice upon the mind and temper, are to be mentioned as instances 
of it. Vice, as such, is naturally attended with some sort of 
uneasiness, and not uncommonly with great disturbance and 
apprehension. That inward feeling, which, respecting lesser 
matters and in familiar speech, we call being vexed with one’s 
self, and in matters of importance, and in more serious language, 
remorse, is an uneasiness naturally arising from an action of a 
man’s own, reflected upon by himself as wrong, unreasonable, 
faulty, i. e. vicious in greater or less degrees; and this mani- 
festly is a different feeling from that uneasiness which arises 
from a sense of mere loss or harm. What is more common 
than to hear a man lamenting an accident or event, and add- 
ing — But however be has the satisfaction that he cannot blame 
himself for it; or on the contrary, that he has the uneasiness 
of being sensible it was his own doing? Thus also, the dis- 
turbance and fear which often follow upon a man’s having 
done an injury, arise from a sense of his being blame-worthy ; 
otherwise there would, in many cases, be no ground of disturb- 
ance, nor any reason to fear resentment or shame. On the otUe? 


124 


OF THE MORAL 


[PART I 

nand, inward security and peace, and a mind oj en to tlie several 
gratifications of life, are the natural attendants of innocence and 
virtue ; to which must be added, the complacency, satisfaction, 
and even joy of heait, which accompany the exercise, the real 
exercise of gratitude, friendship, benevolence. 

And here, I think, ought to be mentioned, the fears of future 
punishment, and peaceful hopes of a better life, in those whe 
fully believe or have any serious apprehension of religion ; be- 
cause these hopes and fears are present uneasiness and satisfao 
iion to the mind, and cannot be got rid of by great part of the 
world, even by men who have thought most thoroughly upon 
that subject of religion. And no one can say how considerable 
this uneasiness and satisfaction may be, or what, upon the 
whole, it may amount to. 

In the next place comes in the consideration, that all honest 
and good men are disposed to befriend honest and good men, as 
such, and to discountenance the vicious, as such, and do so in 
some degree, indeed, in a considerable degree; from which 
favour and discouragement cannot but arise considerable advan- 
tage and inconvenience. And though the generality of the 
world have little regard to the morality of their own actions, 
and may be supposed to have less to that of others, when they 
themselves are not concerned ; 3^et, let any one be known to be 
a man of virtue, somehow or other he will be favoured, and 
good ojQSces will be done him from regard to his character, with- 
out remote views, occasionally, and in some low degree, I think, 
by the generality of the world, as it happens to come in their 
way. Public honours too and advantages are the natural con- 
sequences, are sometimes at least the consequences in fact, of 
virtuous actions, of eminent justice, fidelity, charity, love to our 
country, considered in the view of being virtuous. And some- 
times even death itself, often infamy and external inconve- 
niences, are the public consequences of vice, as vice. For in- 
stance, the sense which mankind have of tyranny, injustice, 
oppression, additional to the mere feeling or fear of misery', haa 
doubtless been instrumental in bringing about revolutions, which 
make a figure even in the history of the world. For it is plain, 
men resent injuries as implying faultiness, and retaliate, not 
merely under the notion of having received harm, but of having 
received wrong; and they have this resentment in behalf ol 
others, as well as of themselves. So, likewise, even the gene- 
rality arcj in some degree, grateful and disposed to return good 


GOVERNMENT OF GOD. 


123 


CUAP. III.] 

offices, not merely because such a one has been the occasion of 
good to them, but under the view that such good offices implied 
kind intention and good desert in the doer. To all this may 
be added two or three particular things, which many persons will 
think frivolous : but to me nothing appears so, which at all 
comes in towards determining a question of such importance, aa 
•whether there be or be not a moral institution of government, 
in the strictest sense moral, visibly established and begun in 
tature. The particular things are these : that, in domestic 
government, which is doubtless natural, children and others 
also are very generally punished for falsehood and injustice 
and ill behaviour, as such, and rewarded for the contrary; 
which are instances where veracity, and justice, and right be- 
haviour, as such, are naturally enforced by rewards and punish- 
ments, whether more or less considerable in degree : that 
though civil government be supposed to take cognizance of 
actions in no other view than as prejudicial to society, without 
respect to the immorality of them, yet as such actions are im- 
moral, so the sense which men have of the immorality of them 
very greatly contributes, in different ways, to bring offenders to 
justice; and that entire absence of’all crime and guilt, in the 
moral sense, when plainly appearing, will almost of course pro- 
cure, and circumstances of aggravated guilt prevent, a remission 
of the penalties annexed to civil crimes, in many cases, though 
by no means in all. 

Upon the whole, then, besides the good and bad effects of 
virtue and vice upon men’s own minds, the course of the world 
does, in some measure, turn upon the approbation and disap- 
probation of them, as such, in others. The sense of well and 
ill-doing, the presages of conscience, the love of good characters 
and dislike of bad ones, honour, shame, resentment, gratitude ; 
all these, considered in themselves, and in their effects, do afford 
manifest real instances of virtue, as such, naturally favoured, 
and of vice, as such, discountenanced, more or less, in the daily 
course of human life ; in every age, in every relation, in every 
general circumstance of it. That God has given us a mcr^ 
nature,* may most justly be urged as a proof of our being undei 
his moral government; but that he has placed us in a condition, 
whitffi gives this nature, as one may speak, scope to opicrate, 
and in which it does unavoidably operate, that is, influeno^ 


!!♦ 


* See Dissertation II. 


126 OP THE MORAL [PART L 

mankind lo act, so as thus to favour and reward virtue, and 
discounteua/jce and punish vice; this is not the same, but a 
further additiniKil proof of his moral government; for it is an 
instance of it. The first is a proof, that he will finally favouJ 
and support virtue effectually ; the second is an example of his 
favouring and supporting it at present, in some degree. 

If a more distinct inquiry be made, whence it arises, that 
Yirtue, as such, is often rewarded, and vice, as such, is punished, 
imd this rule never inverted ; it will be found to proceed, in 
part, immediately from the moral nature itself which God has 
given us ; and also, in part, from his having given us, together 
with this nature, so great a power over each other’s happiness 
and raiseiy. For, Jirst, it is certain that peace and delight, in 
soma degree and upon some occasions, is the necessary and pre- 
sent effect of virtuous practice; an effect arising immediately 
from that constitution of our nature. We are so made, that 
well-doing, as such, gives us satisfaction, at least, in some 
instances; ill-doing, as such, in none. And, secondly ^ from 
our moral nature, joined with God’s having put our happiness 
and misery in many respects in each other’s power, it cannot 
but be that vice, as such, 'some kinds and instances of it at 
least, will be infamous, and men will be disposed to punish it 
as in itself detestable ; and the villain will by no means be able 
always to avoid feeling that infamy, any more than he will be 
able to escape this further punishment which mankind will be 
disposed to inflict upon him, under the notion of his deserving 
it. But there can be nothing on the side of vice to answer 
this; because there is nothing in the human mind contra- 
dictory, as the logicians speak, to virtue. For virtue consists in 
a regard to what is right and reasonable, as being so; in a 
regard to veracity, justice, charity, in themselves: and there is 
surely no such thing as a like natural regard to falsehood, 
injustice, cruelty. If it be thought, that there are instances of 
an approbation of vice, as such, in itself, and for its own sake 
(though it does not appear to me that there is any such thing 
at all ; but supposing there be), it is evidently monstrous ; as 
much so as the most acknowledged perversion of any passion 
whatever. Such instances of perversion, then, being left out 
g8 merely imaginary, or, however, unnatural; it must follow, 
from the frame of our nature, and from our condition, in the 
rcspecta now described, that vice cannot at all be, and virtue 
eajHo^i but bo, favoured, as such, by others, upon some occa- 


CUAP. III.] GOVERNMENT OF GOD. Vli 

sionsj and happy in itself^ in some degree. For what is here 
insisted upon, is not the degree in which virtue and vice are 
thus distinguished, but only the thing itself, that they are so in 
Boms degree; though the whole good and bad effect of virtue 
and vice, as such, is not inconsiderable in degree. But that 
they must be thus distinguished, in some degree, is in a manner 
necessary; it is matter of fact of daily experience, even in the 
^(Teatcst confusion of human affairs. 

It is not pretended but that, in the natural course of things, 
happiness and misery appear to be distributed by other rules, 
than only the personal merit and demerit of characters. They 
may sometimes be distributed by way of mere discipline. There 
may be the wisest and best reasons why the world should be 
governed by general laws, from whence such promiscuous dis- 
tribution perhaps must follow ; and also why our happiness and 
misery should be put in each other’s power, in the degree which 
they are. And these things, as in general they contribute tc 
the rewarding virtue and punishing vice, as such ; so they often 
contribute also, not to the inversion of this, which is impossible, 
but to the rendering persons prosperous though wicked, afflicted 
though righteous ; and, which is worse, to the rewarding some 
actions, though vicious, and punishing other actions, though 
virtuous. But all this cannot drown the voice of nature in the 
conduct of Providence, plainly declaring itself for virtue, by 
way bf distinction from vice, and preference to it. For, our 
being so constituted as that virtue and vice are thus naturally 
favoured and discountenanced, rewarded and punished respec- 
tively as such, is an intuitive proof of the intent of nature that 
it should be so ; otherwise the constitution of our mind, from 
which it thus immediately and directly proceeds, would be ab* 
eurd. But it cannot be said, because virtuous actions are some* 
times punished, and vicious actions rewarded, that nature 
intended it. For, though this great disorder is brought about, 
as all actions are done, by means of some natural passion, yet 
ihis may be, as it undoubtedly is, brought about by the perver- 
sion of such passion, implanted in us for other, and those very 
good purposes. And indeed these other and good purposes, 
even of every passion, may be clearly seen. 

We have then a declaration, in some degree of present effect, 
i^jm him who is supreme in nature, which side he is of, oi 
what part he takes ; a declaration for virtue and against rice. 
Ro far, therefore, as a man is true to virtue, to veracity und 


128 


OF THE MORAL 


[PART I 

justice, to equity and charity, and the right of the 3ai3e, in 
whatever he is concerned, so far he is on the side of tie divine 
administration, and co-operates with it ; and from hence, to such 
a man, arises naturally a secret satisfaction and sense of security, 
and implicit hope of somewhat further. And, 

V. This hope is confirmed by the necessary tendencies of 
virtue, which, though not of present effect, yet are at present 
iiscernible in nature ; and so afford an instance of somewhat 
moral in the essential constitution of it. There is, in the nature 
of things, a tendency in virtue and vice to produce the good 
and bad effects now mentioned, in a greater degree than they 
do in fact produce them. For instance, good and bad men 
would be much more rewarded and punished as such, were it 
not that justice is often artificially eluded, that characters are 
not known, and many who would thus favour virtue and dis- 
courage vice, are hindered from doing so by accidental causes 
These tendencies of virtue and vice are obvious with regard to 
individuals. But it may require more particularly to be con 
sidered, that power in a society^ by being under the direction 
of virtue, naturally increases, and has a necessary tendency to 
prevail over opposite power, not under the direction of it; iu 
like manner as power, by being under the direction of reason, 
increases, and has a tendency to prevail over brute force. 
There are several brute creatures of equal, and several of supe- 
rior strength to that of men ; and possibly the sum of the whole 
strength of brutes may be greater than that of mankind : but 
reason gives us the advantage and superiority over them, and 
thus man is the acknowledged governing animal upon the 
earth. Nor is this superiority considered by any as accidental ; 
but as what reason has a tendency, in the nature of the thing, 
to obtain. And yet, perhaps, difficulties may be raised about 
the meaning, as well as the truth of the assertion, that virtue 
has the like tendency. 

To obviate these difficulties, let us see more distinctly how 
the case stands with regard to reason, which is so readily ac- 
knowledged to have this advantageous tendency. Suppose then, 
two or three men, of the best and most improved understand- 
ing, in a desolate open plain, attacked by ten times the numbei 
of beasts of prey; would their reason secure them the victory 
iu this unequal combat? Power then, though joined with rea- 
son, and under its direction, cannot be expected to prevail ovei 
opposite power, though merely brutal, unless the one bears somt 


CHAP. HI.] GOVERNMENT OF GOD. 129 

proportion to the other. Again, put the imaginary case, that 
rational and irrational creatures were of a like external shape 
and manner; it is certain, before there were opportunities for 
the first to distinguish each other, to separate from their adver- 
oaries, and to form an union among themselves, they might be 
upon a level, or in several respects, upon great disadvaatage, 
though united they might be vastly superior ; since union is of 
such efficacy, that ten men, united, might be able to accomplish 
what ten thousand of the same natural strength and understand- 
ing wholly ununited, could not. In this case then, brute force 
might more than maintain its ground against reason, for want 
of union among the rational creatures. Or suppose a number 
of men to land upon an island inhabited only by wild beasts; 
a number of men, who by the regulations of civil government, 
the inventions of art, and the experience of some years, could 
they be preserved so long, would be really sufficient to subdue 
the wild beasts, and to preserve themselves in security from 
them ; yet a conjuncture of accidents might give such advan- 
tage to the irrational animals, as that they might at once over- 
power, and even extirpate, the whole species of rational ones. 
Length of time then, proper scope and opportunities for reason 
to exert itself, may be absolutely necessary to its prevailing 
over brute force. Further still : there are many instances of 
brutes succeeding in attempts, which they could not have under- 
taken, had not their irrational nature rendered them incapable 
of foreseeing the danger of such attempts, or the fury of passion 
hindered their attending to it ; and there are instances of reason 
and real prudence preventing men’s undertaking what, it hath 
appeared afterwards, they might have succeeded in by a lucky 
rashness. And in certain conjunctures, ignorance and folly, 
weakness and discord, may have their advantages. So that ra- 
tional animals have not necessarily the superiority over irrational 
ones ; but how improbable soever it may be, it is evidently pos- 
sible, that, in some globes, the latter may be superior. And 
were the former wholly at variance and disunited, by false self 
interest and envy, by treachery and injustice, and consequent 
rage and malice against each other, whilst the latter were firmly 
united among themselves by instinct, this might greatly con- 
tribute to the introducing such an inverted order of things. For 
<very one would consider it as inverted ; since reason has, in the 
aaturc of it, a tendency to prevail over brute force, not with* 
itunding the possibility it may not prevail, and ^he necessity 


OF THE MORAL 


13(J 


[pari 1 


jehich there is of many concurrent circumstanccFi to render it 
prevalent. 

Now I say, virtue in a society has a like tendency to procure 
superiority and additional power, whether this power be con- 
sidered as the means of security from opposite power, or of 
obtaining other advantages. And it has this tendency, by ren- 
dering public good an object and end to every member of the 
society : by putting every one upon consideration and diligence, 
recollection and self-government, both in order to see what ia 
the most effectual method, and also in order to perform their 
proper part, for obtaining and preserving it ; by uniting a society 
within itself, and so increasing its strength, and, which is parti- 
cularly to be mentioned, uniting it by means of veracity and 
justice. For as these last are principal bonds of union, so be 
nevolence, or public spirit, undirected, unrestrained by them, 
is — nobody knows what. 

And suppose the invisible world, and the invisible dispensa- 
tions of Providence, to be in any sort analogous to what appears , 
or that both together make up one uniform scheme, the two 
parts of which, the part which we see, and that which is beyond 
our observation, are analogous to each other ; then there must 
be a like natural tendency in the derived power, throughout the 
universe, under the direction of virtue, to prevail in general over 
that which is not under its direction ; as there is in reason, de- 
rived reason in the universe, to prevail over brute force. But 
then, in order to the prevalence of virtue, or that it may actu- 
ally produce what it has a tendency to produce, the like concur 
rences are necessary as are to the prevalence of reason. There 
must be some proportion between the natural power or force 
which is, and that which is not, under the direction of virtue : 
there must be sufficient length of time; for the complete suc- 
jess of virtue, as of reason, cannot, from the nature of the thing, 
be otherwise than gradual ; there must be, as one may spe^k, a 
fair field of trial, a stage large and extensive enough, proper 
occasions and opportunities for the virtuous to join together, to 
exert themselves against lawless force, and to reap the fruit of 
their united labours. Now indeed it is to be hoped, that the 
^sproportion between the good and the bad, even here m earth, 
is not so great, but that the former have natural power sufficieni 
to their prevailing to a considerable degree, if circumstances 
would permit this power to be united. For much less, verj 
maoh leas power, under the direction of virtue, would prevail 


<3HAr. TII.J 


GOVERNMENT OF G01>. 


181 


0A?er much greater, not under the direction of it. However, 
good men over the face of the earth cannot unite ; as for other 
reasons, so because they cannot be sufSciently ascertained of 
each other’s characters. And the known course of human things, 
the scene we are now passing through, particularly the shortness 
of life, denies to virtue its full scope in several other respects. 
The natural tendency which we have been considering, though 
real, is hindered from being carried into effect in the present 
!ta*B, but these hinderances may be removed in a future one. 
rirtuo, to borrow the Christian allusion, is militant here, and va- 
lious untoward accidents contribute to its being often overborne : 
but it may combat with greater advantage hereafter, and prevail 
completely, and enjoy its consequent rewards in some future 
states.* Neglected as it is, perhaps unknown, perhaps despised 
and oppressed here, there may be scenes in eternity, lasting 
enough, and in every other way adapted to afford it a sufficient 
sphere of action, and a sufficient sphere for the natural conse- 
quences of it to follow in fact. If the soul be naturally im- 
mortal, and this state be a progress towards a future one, as 
childhood is towards mature age, good men may naturally unite, 
not only amongst themselves, but also with other orders of vir- 
tuous creatures in that future state. For virtue, from the very 
nature of it, is a principle and bond of union, in some degree_ 
amongst all who are endued with it, and known to each other; 
so as that by it a good man cannot but recommend himself to 
the favour and protection of all virtuous beings throughout the 
whole universe, who can be acquainted with his character, and 
can any way interpose in his behalf in any part of his duration. 
And one might add, that suppose all this advantageous tendency 
of virtue to become effect amongst one or more orders of crea- 
tures, in any distant scenes and periods, and to be seen by any 
orders of vicious creatures, throughout the universal kingdom 
of God ; this happy effect of virtue would have a tendency, by 
way of example, and possibly in other ways, to amend those of 
them who are capable of amendment, and being recovered to a 
just sense of virtue If our notions of the plan of Providence 

* [ This is an instance of Butler’s care to avoid assuming more than 
his premises will warrant. He is arguing here on the foot of reason 
alone ; and, as he had before observed that mere reason could not 
ihow that probation would terminate with tliis life, so he speaks here 
>f the supposition (consistent with such a state of knowledge) of ita 
passing through some state or states of militancy hereafter. — F.] 


132 


OP THE MORAL 


[PART l 

wero enlarged, in any sort proportionable to what late discoveiiea 
have enlarged our views with respect to the material world, 
representations of this kind would not appear absurd or extra- 
vagant. However, they are not to be taken as intended for a 
literal delineation of what is in fact the particular scheme of 
the universe, which cannot be known without revelation ; foi 
suppositions are not to be looked on as true, because not incredi- 
ble, but they are mentioned to show, that our finding virtue to 
be hindered from procuring to itself such superiority and advan- 
tages, is no objection against its having, in the essential nature 
of the thing, a tendency to procure them. And the supposi- 
tions now mentioned do plainly show this : for they show, that 
these hinderances are so far from being necessary, that we our- 
selves can easily conceive how they may be removed in future 
states, and full scope be granted to virtue. And all these ad- 
vantageous tendencies of it are to be considered as declarations 
of God in its favour. This however is taking a pretty largo 
compass j though it is certain, that as the material world ap- 
pears to be, in a manner, boundless and immense, there must be 
some scheme of Providence vast in proportion to it. 

But let us return to the earth our habitation, and we shall 
see this happy tendency of virtue, by imagining an instance, 
not so vast and remote ; by supposing a kingdom or society of 
men upon it, perfectly virtuous, for a succession of many ages , 
to which, if you please, may be given a situation advantageous 
for universal monarchy. In such a state there would be no 
such thing as faction, but men of the greatest capacity would, 
of course, all along, have the chief direction of affairs willingly 
yielded to them, and they would share it among themselves 
without envy. Each of these would have the part assigned him 
to which his genius was peculiarly adapted ; and others, who 
had not any distinguished genius, would be safe, and think 
themselves very happy, by being under the protection and 
guidance of those who had. Public determinations would really 
be the result of the united wisdom of the community, and they 
would faithfully be executed by the united strength of it 
Some would in a higher way contribute, but all would in some 
way contribute to the public prosperity, and in it each would 
enjoy the fruits of his own virtue. And as injustice, whether 
by fraud or force, would be unknown among themselves, so they 
would be sufficiently secured from it in their neighbours. For 
cunning and false self-interest, confederacies in injustice, ever 


CHAP. Ill ] 


GOVERNMENT Oi Uil>. 


Blight, and accompanied with factioi. and ..tesh /.e. treachery ; 
these on one hand would be found men. childish folly and 
weakness, when set in opposition against wisdom, public spirit, 
union inviolable, and fidelity on the othei, allowing both a 
sufficient length of years to try their force. Add the general 
influence which such a kingdom would have over the face of 
the* earth, by way of example particularly, and the reverence 
which would be paid it. It would plainly be superior to all 
others, and the world must gradually come under its empire; 
cot by means of lawless violence, but partly by what must 
be allowed to be just conquest, and partly by other king- 
doms submitting themselves voluntarily to it throughout a 
course of ages, and claiming its protection, one after another, in 
successive exigencies. The head of it would be an universal 
monarch, in another sense than any mortal has yet been, and 
the eastern style would be literally applicable to him, that ad 
people, nations, and languages, should serve him. And though 
indeed our knowledge of human nature, and the whole history 
of mankind, show the impossibility, without eome miraculous 
interposition, that a number of men here on earth should unite 
in one society or government, in the fear of God and universal 
practice of virtue, and that such a government should continue 
so united for a succession of ages ; yet, admitting or supposing 
this, the efiect would be as now drawn out. And thus, for in- 
stance, the wonderful power and prosperity promised to the 
Jewish nation in the Scripture, would be, in a great measure, 
the consequence of what is predicted of them ; that the “ people 
should be all righteous, and inherit the land for ever;’' were 
we to understand the latter phrase of a long continuance only, 
sufficient to give things time to work. The predictions of this 
kind, for there are many of them, cannot come to pass in the 
present known course of nature; but suppose them come to 
pass, and then the dominion and pre-eminence promised, must 
naturally follow, to a very considerable degree. 

Consider now the general system of religion ; that the govern- 
ment of the world is uniform, and one, and moral ; that virtue 
and right shall finally have the advantage, and prevail over 
fraud and lawless force, over the deceits as well as the violence 
of wickedness, under the conduct of one supreme Governor; 
and from the observations above made it will appear, that God 
has, by our reason, given us to see a peculiar connection iu the 
■cveral parts of this scheme, and a tendency towards the eom* 
12 


lU 


OF THE MORAL 


[lART i 

pletion of 1, arising out of the very nature of virtue; which 
tendency is t:) be considered as somewhat moral in the essentiaj 
constitution of things. If any one should think all this to be 
of little importance, I desire him to consider what he would 
think, if vice had, essentially, and in its nature, these advan- 
tageous tendencies, or if virtue had essentially the direct con- 
trary ones. 

But it may be objected, that notwithstanding all these natu- 
ml eflects, and these natural tendencies of virtue, yet things 
may be now going on thro ighout the universe, and may go on 
hereafter, in the same mixed way as here at present upon 
earth ; virtue sometimes prosperous, sometimes depressed ; vice 
sometimes punished, sometimes successful.* The answer to 
which is, that it is not the purpose of this chapter, nor of this 
treatise, properly to prove God’s perfect moral government over 
the world, or the truth of religion, but to observe what there is 
in the constitution and course of nature to confirm the proper 
proof of it, supposed to be known, and that the weight of the 
foregoing observations to this purpose, may be thus distinctly 
proved. Pleasure and pain are indeed, to a certain degree, say 
to a very high degree, distributed amongst us, without any ap- 
parent regard to the merit or demerit of characters. And were 
there nothing else, concerning this matter, discernible in the 
constitution and course of nature, there would be no ground, 
from the constitution and course of nature, to hope or to fear, 
that men would be rewarded or punished hereafter according to 
their deserts ; which, however, it is to be remarked, implies, 
that even then there would be no ground, from appearances, to 
think that vice, upon the whole, would have the advantage, 
rather than that virtue would. And thus the proof of a future 
state of retribution would rest upon the usual known arguments 
for it; which are I think plainly unanswerable, and would be 
so, though there were no additional confirmation of them from 
the things above insisted on. But these things are a very 
strong confirmation of them. For, 

First, They show that the Author of Nature is not indifferent 
to virtue and vice. They amount to a declaration from him, 
determinate, and not to be evaded, in favour of one, and 
against the other; such a declaration as there is nothing to be 

* [The objection is taken from flume. Compare D. Stewart, Actm 
Powers, vol. ii. pp. 226, &c. Archbishop Whately’s Essays on Pecu* 
fiwitiea vf Chiistian Religion, note. Ess. i. s. 6. — F.] 


THAP. III.J GOVERNMENT OF GOD. l3iJ 

set over against, or answer, on the part of vice. So that were 
a man, laying aside the proper proof of religion, to determine, 
from the course of nature only, whether it were most probable 
that the righteous or the wicked would have the advantage in a 
future life, there can be no doubt but that he would determne 
the probability to be, that the former would. The course of 
mature then, in the view of it now given, furnishes us with a 
»^eal practical view of the obligations of religion. 

Secondly, When conformably to what religion teaches us, 
4od shall reward and punish virtue and vice as such, so as that 
<»very one shall, upon the whole, have his deserts, this distri- 
butive justice will not be a thing different in kind, but only in 
degree^ from what we experience in his present government, 
ft will be that in effect^ toward which we now see a teridency. 
ft will be no more than the completion of that moral govern- 
went, the principles and beginning of which have been shown, 
>^yond all dispute, discernible in the present constitution and 
<»ourse of nature. And from hence it follows. 

Thirdly, That as under the natural government of God, our 
experience of those kinds and degrees of happiness and misery, 
which we do experience at present, gives just ground to hope 
for and to fear higher degrees and other kinds of both in a 
future state, supposing a future state admitted ; so, under hia 
moral government, our experience that virtue and vice are, in 
‘he manners above-mentioned, actually rewarded and punished 
st present, in a certain degree, gives just ground to hope and 
Vo fear, that they may he rewarded and punished in a higher 
degree hereafter. It is acknowledged, indeed, that this alone 
•«s not sufficient ground to think, that the.y actually will be 
rewarded and punished in a higher degree, rather than in a 
mwer : but then. 

Lastly, There is sufficient ground to think so, from the good 
\ud bad tendencies of virtue and vice. For these tendencica 
are essential, and founded in the nature of things: whereas, 
the hinderances to their becoming effect are, in numberless 
eases, not necessary, but artificial only. Now it may be much 
more strongly argued, that these tendencies, as well as the 
4ctual rewards and punishments of virtue and vice, which arise 
directly out of the nature of things, will remain hereafter, than 
ihat the accidental hinderances of them will. And if these 
hinderances do not remain, those rewards and punishments 
uinnot but be carried on much further towards the perfectk'D 


OP THE MORAL 


m 


I PART 1 

4 . 


of moral government, i. e. the teudenciet (d virtue and vice 
will become effect^ but when, or where, or in what particulai 
way, cannot be known at all, but by revelation. 

Upon the whole, there is a kind of moral government implied 
in God’s natural government^* virtue and vice are naturally 
rewarded and punished as beneficial and mischievous to society,*|‘ 
and rewarded and punished directly as virtue and vice.^j; The 
notion then of a moral scheme of government is not fictitiouj, 
but natural; for it is suggested to our thoughts, by the consti- 
tution and course of nature ; and the execution of this scheme 
is actually begun, in the instances here mentioned. And these 
things are to be considered as a declaration of the Author of 
nature, for virtue, and against vice ; they give a credibility to 
the supposition of their being rewarded and punished hereafter, 
and also ground to hope and to fear, that they may be rewarded 
and punished in higher degrees than they are here. And as 
all this is confirmed, so the argument for religion, from the 
constitution and course of nature, is carried on farther, by 
.observing, that there are natural tendencies, and in innumerable 
cases, only artificial hinderances, to this moral scheme being 
carried on much farther towards perfection than it is at present. § 
The notion then of a moral scheme of government, much more 
perfect than what is seen, is not a fictitious, but a natural 
notion ; for it is suggested to our thoughts by the essential ten- 
dencies of virtue and vice. And these tendencies are to be 
considered as intimations, as implicit promises and threaten ings, 
from the Author of nature, of much greater rewards and 
punishments to follow virtue and vice, than do at present. 
And, indeed, every natural tendency, which is to continue, but 
which is hindered from becoming effect by only accidental 
causes, affords a presumption, that such tendency will, some 
time or other, become effect :1| a presumption in degree propor 


* Page 120. t Page 121. J Page 122, &c. ^ Page 128, &c. 

II [The Archbishop of Dublin (Pol. Econ., lect. ix.) has pointed out 
the ambiguity of the word tendency, which has been the occasion of 
much confusion of thought. Tendency towards a result sometimes 
(and strictly) only means the existence of a cause which, if operating 
unimpeded, would produce the result. But commonly it is used t<j 
imply the existence of such a state of things as makes it likely that 
the result will actually be produced, i. e. in Butler’s language, that 
the hinderances to its operation are accidental: such as do not act 
■teadily and uniformly against the cause, as such, but only ccca- 


GOVERNMENT OF GOD. 


137 


oHAr. in.] 

tionable to the length of the duration through which such ten 
dencj will continue. And from these things together arises a 
real presumption, that the moral scheme of government esta- 
blished in nature, shall be carried on much farther towards per- 
fection hereafter, and, I think, a presumption that it will bo 
absolutely completed. But from these things, joined with the 
moral nature which God has given us, considered as given ua 
by him, arises a practical proof* that it will be completed; a 
p^oof from fact, and therefore a distinct one, from that which 
is deduced from the eternal and unalterable relations, the fitness 
and unfitness of actions. 


Bionally, and in consequence of its connexion with other things with 
which it may or may not be united. There is the clear presumption 
in favour of continuance (noticed by Butler, p. i. c. i.) for the ten- 
dency which we see steadily and uniformly operating, while there ia 
nothing like the same presumption for the continuance of those 
causes of hinderances which are not permanent in their actios, aoi 
uniform in their nature. — F.] 

« See this proof draws out brieSj . Chap. 6. 


m 


OF A STATE Of TRIAL. 


[PART L 


CHAP. IV. 

0 /. State cf r*'ohation, as implying Trial, Difficulties and 

Danger.^ 

The general doctrine of religion, that our present life is a 
state of probation for a future one, comprehends under it seve- 
ral particular things, distinct from each other. But the first 
and most common meaning of it seems to be, that our future 
interest is now depending, and depending upon ourselves ; that 
we have scope and opportunities here for that good and bad 
behaviour, which God will reward and punish hereafter; toge- 
ther with temptations to one, as well as inducements of reason 
to the other. And this is, in great measure, the same with 
saying, that we are under the moral government of God, and to 
give an account of our actions to him. For the notion of a 
future account, and general righteous judgment, implies some 

* [It might be, and often is, indeed, made an objection to the reli- 
gious system, that our way to the everlasting blessedness which it 
proposes should be beset with so many lures which tempt us aside 
/rom the prosecution of it; and on the other hand, that so many 
hardships and difficulties should be attendant on our steadfast perse- 
verance in that way. The thing complained of is, that our great and 
ultimate good should have been made of such difficult attainment, 
insomuch that the frail powers of humanity, either for the achieve- 
ment of what is good or the resistance of what is evil, are so greatly 
overtasked, as in the great majority of instances to be overborne. 
Now in this chapter we are presented with a complete and conclusive 
analogy, which, if it do not establish the reality of our religious trial, 
at least serves to vindicate it against the exceptions which we have 
just enumerated. Whatever doubt we may stand in regarding those 
loctrines which respect the future and the unseen, there can be no 
:iuarrelling with present and actually observed facts. If the doctrine 
be, that the way to our eternal good is a way of labour and self- 
denial, it is in perfect analogy with the fact that this is the way to 
our temporal good also. It is quite palpable that often many toile 
must be undergone, and many temptations resisted, ere we can secure 
the most highly-prized advantages of the life that now is ; and the 
conclusion is, not that similar toils and temptations must, but that 
they may be the precursors and the prcpaiutives of our happiness iu 
another state of being. — Chalmers.lj^ 


OF A BTATE OF TRIAL. 


139 


riiAp. IV.] 

sort of temptations to what is. wrong, otherwise there would be 
no moral possibility of doing wrong, nor ground for judgment 
or discrimination. I5ut there is this difference, that the word 
probation is more distinctly and pai-ticularly expressive of 
allurements to wrong, or difficulties in adhering uniformly to 
what is right, and of the danger of miscarrying by such terap- 
fctUions, than the words moral government. A state of proba- 
tion, then, as thus particularly implying in it trial, difficulties^ 
and danger, may require to be considered distinctly b}' itself. 

And as the moral government of God, which religion teaches 
us, implies, that we are in a state of trial with regard to a future 
world ; so also his natural government over us implies, that we 
are in a state of trial, in the like sense, with regard to the pre- 
sent world. Natural government, by rewards and punishments, 
is much implies natural trial, as moral government does moral 
trial. The natural government of God here meant,* consists 
in his annexing pleasure to some actions, and pain to others, 
which are in our power to do or forbear, and in giving us notice 
of such appointment beforehand. This necessarily implies, that 
he has made our happiness and misery, or our interest, to de- 
pend in part upon ourselves. And so far as men have tempta- 
tions to any course of action, which will probably occasion them 
greater temporal inconvenience and uneasiness than satisfaction, 
so far their temporal interest is in danger from themselves, or 
they are in a state of trial with respect to it. Now people often 
blame others, and even themselves, for their misconduet in their 
temporal concerns. And we find many are greatly wanting to 
themselves, and miss of that natural happiness which they might 
have obtained in the present life; perhaps every one does in 
Bome degree. But many run themselves into great inconve- 
nience, and into extreme distress and misery, not through inca- 
pacity of knowing better, and doing better for themselves, which 
would be nothing to the present purpose, but through their own 
fault. And these things necessarily imply temptation, and 
danger of miscarrying, in a greater or less degree, with respect 
to our worldly interest or. happiness. Every one too, without 
having religion in his thoughts, speaks of the hazards which 
^oung people run upon their setting out in the world ; hazards 
from other causes, than merely their ignorance and unavcidablo 
accidents. And some courses of vice, at least, being eontrarji 


* Chap. 2. 


140 


OF A STATE OF TRIAL. 


[I'ART i 

to men’s \f \dly interest or good, temptations to these must a1 
the same time be temptations to forego our present and our 
future interest. Thus in our natural or temporal capacity, we 
are in a state of trial, i. e. of difficulty and danger, analogous or 
like to our moral and religious trial. 

This will more distinctly appear to any one, who thinks it 
worth while, more distinctly, to consider what it is which con- 
siitutes our trial in both capacities, and to observe how man* 
iind behave under it. 

And that which constitutes this our trial, in both these 
capacities, must be somewhat either in our external circum- 
stances, or in our nature. For on the one hand, persons may 
be betrayed into wrong behaviour upon surprise, or overcome 
upon any other very singular and extraordinary external occa* 
sions, who would^ otherwise, have preserved their character of 
prudence and of virtue : in which cases, every one, in speaking 
of the wrong behaviour of these persons, would impute it to 
such particular external circumstances. And on the other hand, 
men who have contracted habits of vice and folly of any kind, 
or have some particular passions in excess, will seek opportu- 
nities, and, as it were go out of their way, to gratify themselves 
in these respects, at the expense of their wisdom and their 
virtue ; led to it, as every one W'ould say, not by external temp- 
tations, but by such habits and passions. And the account of 
this last case is, that particular passions are no more coincident 
with prudence, or that reasonable self-love, the end of which is 
our worldly interest, than they are with the principle of virtue 
and religion, but often draw contrary ways to one as well as to 
the other ; and so much particular passions are as much temp- 
tations to act imprudently with regard to our worldly interest, 
as to act viciously.* However, as when we say, men are misled 
by external circumstances of temptation, it cannot but be un- 
derstood, that there is somewhat within themselves to render 
those circumstances temptations, or to render them susceptible 
of impressions from them ; so, when we say, they are misled by 
passions, it is always supposed, that there are occasions, circum- 
stances, and objects, exciting these passions, and affording means 
for gratifying them. And therefore, temptations from within, 
ind from without, coincide, and mutually imply each other, 


* See Sermons preached at the Rolls, 172B, 2d. Ed. 205, &c. Pre£ 
p 24 &c. Serm. p 21, &c. 


cmAP. TV.] 


OF A STATE OF TRIAL. 


141 


Now the several external objects of the appetites, passions, and 
affections, being present to the senses, or offering themselves to 
the mind, and so exciting emotions suitable to their nature, not 
only in cases where they can be gratified consistently with inno« 
cence and prudence, but also in cases where they cannot, and 
yet can be gratified imprudently and viciously ; this as really 
puts them in danger of voluntarily foregoing their present inte- 
rest or good, as their future, and as really renders self-denial 
necessary to secure one as the other; i. e. we are in a like 
state of trial with respect to both, by the very same passions 
excited by the very same means. Thus mankind having a tem- 
poral interest depending upon themselves, and a prudent course 
of behaviour being necessary to secure it, passions inordinately 
excited, whether by means of example or by any other external 
circumstance, towards such objects, at such times, or in such 
degrees, as that they cannot bo gratified consistently with world- 
ly prudence, are temptations dangerous, and too often successful 
temptations, to forego a greater temporal good for a less, i. e. 
to forego what is, upon the whole, our temporal interest, for the 
sake of a present gratification. This is a description of our 
state of trial in our temporal capacity. Substitute now the word 
future for temporal^ and virtue iov prudence, and it will be just 
as proper a description of our state of trial in our religiomo 
capacity ; so analogous are they to each other. 

If, from consideration of this our like state of trial in both 
capacities, we go on to observe farther, how mankind behave 
under it, we shall find there are some who have so little sense 
of it, that they scarce look beyond the passing day ; they are 
so taken up with present gratifications, as to have, in a manner, 
no feeling of consequences, no regard to their future ease or 
fortune in this life, any more than to their happiness in 
another. Some appear to be blinded and deceived by inor- 
dinate passion in their worldly concerns, as much as in religion 
Others are not deceived, but as it were, forcibly carried away 
by the like passions, against their better judgment, and feeble 
resolutions too, of acting better. And there are men, and truly 
they are not a few, who shamelessly avow, not their interest, 
but their mere will and pleasure, to be their law of life ; and 
tvho, in open defiance of every thing that is reasonable, will go 
an in a course of vicious extravagance, foreseeing, with no 
remorse, and little fear, that it will be their temporal ruin; and 
iomo of them, under tbe apprehensien of the consequences of 


142 OF A STATE OP TRIAL. [» AKT 1 

wickedness in another state. And to speak in the most mo- 
derate way, human creatures are not only continually liable tc 
go wi’ong voluntarily, but we see likewise that they often 
actually do so, with respect to their temporal interests, as well 
as with respect to religion. 

Thus our difficulties and dangers, or our trials iii our Itra* 
poral and our religious capacity, as they proceed from the saniP 
causes, and have the same effect upon men's behaviour, are evi- 
dently analogous, and of the same kind. 

It may be added, that as the difficulties and dangers of mis- 
carrying in our religious state of trial are greatly increased, and 
one is ready to think, in a manner wholly made, by the ill 
behaviour of others ; by a wrong education, wrong in a moral 
sense, sometimes positively vicious ; by general bad example ; 
by the dishonest artifices which are got into business of all 
kinds; and in very many parts of the world, by religion being 
corrupted into superstitions which indulge men in their vices ; 
so in like manner, the difficulties of conducting ourselves pru- 
dently in respect to our present interest, and our danger of 
being led aside from pursuing it, are greatly increased by a 
foolish education, and after we come to mature age, by the ex- 
travagance and carelessness of others, whom we have intercourse 
with ; and by mistaken notions, very generally prevalent, and 
taken up from common opinion, concerning temporal happines.®, 
and wherein it consists. And persons, by their own negligence 
and folly in their temporal affairs, no less than by a course of 
vice, bring themselves into new difficulties, and by habits of 
indulgence, become less qualified to go through them ; and one 
irregularity after another embarrasses things to such a degree, 
that they know not whereabout they are, and often makes the 
path of conduct so intricate and perplexed, that it is difficult te 
trace it out ; difficult even to determine what is the prudent or 
the moral part. Thus for instance, wrong behaviour in one 
stage of life, youth ; wrong, I mean, considering ourselves only 
in our temporal capacity, without taking in religion , this, in 
several ways, increases the difficulties of right behaviour in ma- 
ture age ; i. e. puts us into a more disadvantageous state of trial 
in our temporal capacity. 

We are an inferior part of tbe creation of God: there are 
pamral of our being in a state of degradation;* 


Parc n. Cnap. 5. 


OF A STATE OF TRIAI . 


113 


f3IIAP. IV. J 

and wo certainly are in a condition which does not stem^ by any 
means, the most advantageous we could imagine or desire, either 
in our natural or moral capacity, for securing either our present 
or our future interest. However, this condition, low and careful 
and uncertain as it is, does not alford any just ground of com- 
plaint. For, as men may m-anage their temporal afiiiirs with 
prudence, and so pass their days here on eartF in tolerable ease 
Sind satisfaction, by a moderate degree of care ; so likewise with 
regard to religion, there is no more required than what they are 
well able to do, and what they must be greatly wanting to them- 
a»elves if they neglect. And for persons to have that put upon 
them which they are well able to go through, and no more, we 
naturally consider as an equitable thing, supposing it done by 
proper authority. Nor have we any more reason to complain 
of it, with regard to the Author of Nature, than of his not 
having given us other advantages, belonging to other orders of 
creatures. 

But the thing here insisted upon is, that the state of trial 
which religion teaches us we are in, is rendered credible, by its 
being throughout uniform and of a piece with the general con- 
duct of Providence towards us, in all other respects within the 
compass of our knowledge. Indeed if mankind, considered in 
their natural capacity as iijhabitants of this world only, found 
themselves, from their birth to their death, in a settled state of 
security and happiness, without any solicitude or thought of 
their own ; or if they were in no danger of being brought into 
inconvenience and distress by carelessness, or the folly of pas- 
sion, through bad example, the treachery of others, or the de- 
ceitful appearances of things ; were this our natural condition, 
then it might seem strange, and be some presumption against 
the truth of religion, that it represents our future and more 
general interest, as not secure of course, but as depending upon 
our behaviour, and requiring recollection and self-government to 
obtain it. For it might be alleged, “ What you say is oui 
condition in one respect, is not in any wise of a sort with what 
we find, by experience, our condition is in another. Our whole 
present interest is secured to our hands, without any solicitude 
of ours, and why should not our future interest, if we have any 
such, be so too V* But since, on the contrary, thought and 
consideration, the voluntary denying ourselves many things 
which we desire, and a course of behaviour far from being 
always agreeable to us, are absolutely necessary to our acting 


144 OF A. STATE OP TRIAL. [PART 1 

even a common decent and common prudent part, so as to pass 
with any satisfaction through the present world, and be received 
upon any tolerable good terms in it^ since this is the case, all 
presumption against self-denial and attention being necessary to 
secure our higher interest is removed. Had we not experience, 
it might, perhaps, speciously be urged, that it is improbable any 
thing of hazard and danger should be put upon us % an infinite 
i.teing, when every thing which is hazard and danger in out 
manner of conception, and will end in error, confusion, and 
misery, is now already certain in his foreknowledge. And 
indeed, why any thing of hazard and danger should be put upon 
such frail creatures as we are, may well be thought a difficulty 
in speculation ; and cannot but be so, till we know the whole, 
or, however, much more of the case. But still the constitution 
of nature is as it is. Our happiness and misery are trusted to 
^ur conduct, and made to depend upon it. Somewhat, and in 
many circumstances, a great deal too, is put upon us, either to 
do or to suffer, as we choose. And all the various miseries of 
life, which people bring upon themselves by negligence and 
folly, and might have avoided by proper care, are instances of 
this; which miseries are, beforehand, just as contingent and 
undetermined as their conduct, and left to be determined by it. 

These observations are an answer to the objections against 
the credibility of a state of trial, as implying temptations, and 
real danger of miscarrying with regard to our general interest, 
under the moral government of God; and they show, that if 
we are at all to be considered in such a capacity, and as having 
such an interest, the general analogy of Providence must lead 
us to apprehend ourselves in danger of miscarrying, in different 
degrees, as to this interest, by our neglecting to act the proper 
part belonging to us in that capacity. For we have a present 
interest, under the government of God which we experience 
here upon earth. And this interest, as it is not forced upoii 
as, SO' neither is it offered to our acceptance, but to our acquisi- 
tion ; in such sort, as that we are in danger of missing it, by 
means of temptations to neglect or act contrary to it; and 
without attention and self-denial, must and do miss of it. It is 
then perfectly credible, that this may be our case with resv.eei 
to that chief and final good which religion proposes to us 


CHAP y.l 


or MORAL DISCIPLINE 


146 


CHAP. V. 

O/ a Sta*e of Probation^ as intended for Moral Disciplini 
and Improvement.^ 

From the consideration of our being in a probation-state, of 
BO much difficulty and hazard, naturally arises the question, how 
we came to be placed in it. But such a general inquiry as this 
would be found involved in insuperable difficulties. For, though 
some of these difficulties would be lessened by observing, that 
all wickedness is voluntary, as is implied in its very notion, and 
that many of the miseries of life have apparent good effects, yet 
when we consider other circumstances belonging to both, and 
what must be the consequence of the former in a life to come; 
it cannot but be acknowledged plain folly and presumption, to 
pretend to give an account of the whole reasons of this matter ; 
the whole reasons of our being allotted a condition, out of which 
so much wickedness and misery, so circumstanced, would in fact 
arise. Whether it be not beyond our faculties, not Only to find 
out, but even to understand, the whole account of this; or, 
though we should be supposed capable of understanding it, yet, 
whether it would be of service or prejudice to us to be informed 
of it, is impossible to say. But as our present condition can in 
nowise be shown inconsistent with the perfect moral government 
of God ; so religion teaches us we were placed in it, that we 
might qualify ourselves, by the practice of virtue, for another 
state, which is to follow it. And this, though but a partial an- 
swer, a very partial one indeed, to the inquiry now mentioned, 
yet is a more satisfactory answer to another, which is of real, 
and of the utmost importance to us to have answered — the in- 
quiry, What is our business here ? The known end then, why 
we are placed in a state of so much affliction, hazard and diffi- 

* [The present chapter stands in the same relation to the one pre 
ceding it, which that on the moral does to that on the natural govern- 
ment of God. It still treats of probation, but of probation with a 
particular end — even that of schooling men in the practice, so as t« 
• infirm the'-n in the habits of virtue — Ckalrmrs.'] 

13 


146 


OF A STATE OF 


[PART i 

culty is, our improvement in virtue and piety, as tbe wjqulsiw 
qualification for a future state of security and happiness. 

Now the beginning of life, considered as an education for ma- 
ture age in the present world, appears plainly, at first sight, 
analogous to this our trial for a future one; the former being, 
in our temporal capacity, what tbe latter is in our religious ca- 
pacity. But some observations common to both of them, and a 
more distinct consideration of each, will more distinctly show 
the extent and force of the analogy between therfi; and the 
credibility, which arises from hence, as well as from the nature 
of the thing, that the present life was intended to be a state of 
discipline for a future one. 

I. Every species of creatures is, we see, designed foi a particm 
lar way of life, to which the nature, the ^capacities, temper, and 
qualifications, of each species, are as necessary as their external 
circumstances. Both come into the notion of such state, or 
particular way of life, and are constituent parts of it. Change 
a man’s capacities or character to the degree in which it is con- 
ceivable they may be changed, and he would be altogether in- 
capable of a human course of life and human happiness; as 
incapable, as if, his nature continuing unchanged, he were placed 
in a world where he had no sphere of action, nor any objects to 
answer his appetites, passions, and affections of any sort. One 
thing is set over against another, as an ancient writer expresses 
it.* Our nature corresponds to our external condition. With- 
out this correspondence, there would be no possibility of any 
such thing as human life and human happiness : which life and 
happiness are, therefore, a result from our nature and condition 
jointly; meaning by human life, not living in the literal sense, 
but the whole complex notion commonly understood by those 
words. So that without determining what will be the employ- 
ment and happiness, the particular life of good men hereafter, 
there must be some determinate capacities, some necessary char- 
acter and qualifications, without which persons cannot but be 
utterly incapable of it; in like manner as there must be some, 
without which men would be incapable of their present state of 
life. Now, 

IT. The constitution of human creatures, and indeed of all 
creatures which come under our notice, is such, as that they are 

* [All tilings are double one against another: and He hath made 
nothing imperfect. One thing establisheth the good of another : anj 
who shall be filled with beholding his glory? — Eccles. xlii, .21, 26.'} 


CHAP, V. I MORAL DISCIPLINE. 147 

capable of naturally becoming qualified foi states of life, for 
which they were once wholly unqualified. In imagination, we 
may indeed conceive of creatures, as incapable of having any 
of their faculties naturally enlarged, or as being unable naturally 
to acquire any new qualifications; but the faculties of every 
species known to us are made for enlargement, for acquirements 
of experience and habits. We find ourselves, in particular, 
endued with capacities, not only of perceiving ideas, and of 
knowledge or perceiving truth, but also of storing up our ideas 
>f knowledge by memory. We are capable, not only of acting, 
«nd of having difierent momentary impressions made upon us, 
but of getting a new facility in any kind of action, and of set- 
tied alterations in our temper or character. The power of the 
two last is the power of habits. But neither the perception of 
ideas, nor knowledge of any sort, are habits, though absolutely 
necessary to the forming of them. However, apprehension, rea- 
son, memory, which are the capacities of acquiring knowledge, 
are greatly improved by exercise. Whether the word habit is 
applicable to all these improvements, and, in particular, how far 
the powers of memory and of habits may be powers of the same 
nature, I shall not inquire. But that perceptions come into our 
minds readily and of course, by means of their having been 
there before, seems a thing of the same sort, as readiness in any 
particular kind of action, proceeding from being accustomed to 
it. And aptness to recollect practical observations of service in 
our conduct, is plainly habit in many cases. There are habits 
of perception, and habits of action. An instance of the former, 
is our constant and even involuntary readiness in correcting tho 
impressions of our sight concerning magnitudes and distances, 
so as to substitute judgment in the room of sensation, imper- 
ceptibly to ourselves. And it seems as if all other associations 
of ideas, not naturally connected, might be called passive habits, 
as properly as our readiness in understanding languages upon 
sight, or hearing of words. And our readiness in speaking and 
writing them is an instance of the latter, of active habits. For 
distinctness, we may consider habits as belonging to the body or 
the mind, and the latter will be explained by the former. Under 
the former are comprehended all bodily activities or motions, 
whether graceful or unbecoming, which are owing to use ; under 
the latter, general habits of life and conduct, such as those of 
obedience and submission to authority, or to any particular per- 
4on; those of veracity, justice, and charity; those of attentioru 


148 


OF A STATE OF 


LP.VRT I 


industry^ self-government, envy, revt;nge And habits of thia 
latter kind seem produced by repeated acts, as well as the for- 
mer. And in like manner, as habits belonging to the body 
are produced by external acts, so habits of the mind are pro- 
duced by the exertion of inward practical principles ; i. e. by car- 
rying them into act, or acting upon them, the principles of 
obedience, of veracity, justice, and charity. Nor can those ha- 
bits be formed by any external course of action, otherwise than 
as it proceeds from these principles ; because it is only these 
mward principles exerted, which are strictly acts of obedience, 
of veracity, of justice, and of charity. So likewise, habits of 
Attention, industry, self-government, are in the same manner 
acquired by exercise ; and habits of envy and revenge by indul- 
gence, whether in outward act or in thought and intention, i. e. 
inward act; for such intention is an act. llesolutions also to 
do well are properly acts. And endeavouring to enforce upon 
r)ur own minds a practical sense of virtue, or to beget in others 
that practical sense of it which a man really has himself, is a 
virtuous act. All these, therefore, may and will contribute to- 
wards forming good habits. But going over the theory of virtue 
in one’s thoughts, talking well, and drawing fine pictures of it; 
this is so far from necessarily or certainly conducing to form a 
habit of it in him who thus employs himself, that it may harden 
the mind in a contrary course, and render it gradually more in- 
sensible, i. e. form a habit of insensibility to all moral considera- 
tions. For, from our very faculty of habits, passive impressions, 
by being repeated, grow weaker. Thoughts, by often passing 
through the mind, are felt less sensibly; being accustomed to 
danger begets intrepidity, i. e. lessens fear ; to distress, lessens 
the passion of pity ; to instances of others’ mortality, lessens the 
sensible apprehension of our own. And from these two obser- 
vations together ; that practical habits are formed and strength- 
ened by repeated acts, and that passive impressions grow weaker 
by being repeated upon us; it must follow, that active habits may 
be gradually forming and strengthening, by a course of acting 
upon such and such motives and excitements, whilst these mo- 
tives and excitements themselves are, by proportionable degrees, 
growing less sensible ; i. e. are continually less and less sensibly 
felt, even as the active habits strengthen. x\nd experience con- 
firms this ; for active principles, at the very time that they are 
less lively in perception than they were, are found to be some 
bow wrought more thoroughly into the temper and character, 


MORAL DISCIPLINE 


143 


CHAP. V.J 

and become more effectual in influencing our pactice. The 
three things just mentioned may afford instances of it. Percep* 
tion of danger is a natural excitement of passive fear and active 
caution ; and by being inured to danger, habits of the latter are 
gradually wrought, at the same time that the former gradually 
lessens. Perception of distress in others is a natural excitement, 
passively to pity, and actively to relieve it ; but let a man set 
himself to attend to, inquire out, and relieve distressed persons, 
and he cannot but grow less and less sensibly affected with the 
various miseries of life, with which he must become acquainted ; 
when yet, at the same time, benevolence, considered not as a 
passion, Wt as a practical principle of action, will strengthen j 
and whilst he passively compassionates the distressed less, he 
will acquire a greater aptitude actively to assist and befriend 
them. So also, at the same time that the daily instances of 
men’s dying around us give us daily a less sensible passive feeling 
or apprehension of our own mortality, such instances greatly 
contribute to the strengthening a practical regard to it in serious 
men ; i. e. to forming a habit of acting with a constant view to 
it. And this seems again further to show, that passive impres- 
sions made upon our minds by admonition, experience, example, 
though they may have a remote efficacy, and a very great one, 
towards forming active habits, yet can have this efficacy no oth- 
erwise than by inducing us to such a course of action ; and that 
it is, not being affected so and so, but acting, which forms those 
habits ; only it must be always remembered, that real endeavours 
to enforce good impressions upon ourselves, are a species of vir- 
tuous action. Nor do we know how far it is possible, in the 
nature of things, that effects should be wrought in us at once 
equivalent to habits,* i. e. what is wrought by use and exercise. 
However, the thing insisted upon is, not what may be possible, 
but what is in fact the appointment of nature, which is, that 
active habits are to be formed by exercise. Their progress may 
be so gradual as to be imperceptible in its steps ; it may 
hard to explain the faculty by which we are capable of habits, 
throughout its several parts, and to trace it up to its original, sc 
as to distinguish it from ail others in our mind; and it seems 

* [In some of the miracles there seem to have been effects produced 
at cnce, equivalent to habits, as in the gift of tongues ; and as pointed 
out by Dr. Drought (in Dean Graves’s Works), in the miracle by which 
the blind man was enabled to use the sight which bad teen miracu- 
lously given to him. — F.] 

13 * 


150 


OF A STATE OP 


[PART I. 

as if contrary effects were to be ascribed to it. bui< the thing 
in gineral, that our nature is formed to yield, in some such 
manner as this, to use and exercise, is matter of certain expe- 
rience. 

Thus, by accustoming ourselves to any course of action, wo 
get an aptness to go on, a facility, readiness, and often pleasure 
in it. The inclinations which rendered us averse to it grow 
weaker; the difficulties in it, not only the imaginary but the 
real otes, lessen ; the reasons for it offer themselves of course 
to our thoughts upon all occasions ; and the least glimpse of 
them is sufficient to make us go on in a course of action to which 
we have been accustomed. And practical principles appear to 
grow stronger, absolutely in themselves, by exercise, as well as 
relatively, with regard to contrary principles ; which by being 
accustomed to submit, do so habitually, and of course. And 
thus a new character, in several respects, may be formed ; and 
many habitudes of life, not given by nature, but which nature 
directs us to acquire. 

III. Indeed we may be assured, that we should never have 
had these capacities of improving by experience, acquired know- 
ledge and habits, had they not been necessary, and intended tc 
be made use of. And accordingly, we find them so necessary, 
and so much intended, that without them we should be utterly 
incapable of that which was the end for which we were made, 
considered in our temporal capacity only; the employments and 
satisfactions of our mature state of life. 

Nature does in nowise qualify us wholly, much less at once, 
for this mature state of life. Even maturity of understanding 
and bodily strength are not only arrived to gradually, but are 
also very much owing to the continued exercise of our powers 
of body and mind from infancy. But if we suppose a person 
brought into the world with both these in maturity, as far as 
4his is conceivable, he would plainly at first be as unqualified 
for the human life of mature age, as an idiot. He would be in 
a manner distracted with astonishment, and apprehension, and 
curiosity, and suspense ; nor can one guess how long it would 
be before he would be familiarized to himself, and the objects 
about him, enough even to set himself to any thing. It may 
be questioned too, whether the natural information of his sight 
and hearing would be of any manner of use at all to him in 
acting, before experience. And it seems that men would be 
•trange'’y headstrong and self-willed, and dispos(f*d to exert 


moral discipline 


151 


CHAP. V.] 

themselves with an impetuosity which would render society 
insupportable, and the living in it impracticable, were it not for 
some acquired moderation and self-government, some aptitude 
and readiness in restraining themselves, and concealing their 
sense of things. Want of every thing of this kind which is 
learned, would render a man as incapable of society as want of 
language would ; or as his natural ignorance of any of the par- 
ticular employments of life, would render him incapable of pro- 
viding himself with the common conveniences, or supplying the 
necessary wants of it. In these respects, and probably in many 
more, of which we have no particular notion, mankind is left 
by nature an unformed, unfinished creature, utterly deficient 
and unqualified, before the acquirement of knowledge, expe« 
riecce, and habits, for that mature state of life, which was the 
end of his creation, considering him as related only to this 
world. 

But then, as nature has endued us with a power of supplying 
those deficiencies, by acquired knowledge, experience, and ha- 
bits; so likewise, we are placed in a condition, in infancy, 
childhood, and youth, fitted for it; fitted for our acquiring 
those qualifications of all sorts, which we stand in need of in 
mature age. Hence children, from their very birth, are daily 
growing acquainted with the objects about them, with the scene 
in which they are placed, and to have a future part ; and learn- 
ing somewhat or other, necessary to the performance of it. The 
subordinations, to which they are accustomed in domestic life, 
teach them self-government in common behaviour aoroad, and 
prepare them for subjection and obedience to civil authority. 
What passes before their eyes, and daily happens to them, gives 
them experience, caution against treachery and deceit, together 
with numberless little rules of action and conduct, which we 
could not live without, and which are learned so insensibly and 
80 perfectly, as to be mistaken perhaps for instinct; though 
they are the cFect of long experience and exercise ; as much so 
as language, or knowledge in particular business, or the qualifi- 
cations and behaviour belonging to the several ranks and pro- 
fessions. Thus the beginning of our days is adapted to be, and 
is, a state of education in the theory and practice of mature life. 
We are much assisted in it by example, instruction, and the 
lare of others ; but a great deal is left to ourselves to do. And 
of this, as part is done easily and of course, so part requir^ 
iiligonoe and care, the voluntary foregoing many things which 


152 


OP A STATE OP 


]^PART 1 


we desire, and setting ourselves to what we should have ni 
inclination to, but for the necessity or expedience of it. For, 
that labour and industry which the station of so many abso- 
lutely requires, they would be greatly unqualified for in ma- 
turity; as those in other stations would be for any other sorts 
of application, if both were not accustomed to them in their 
youth. And according as persons behave themselves, in th 
general education which all go through, and in the particulai 
ones adapted to particular employments, their chara; ter L 
formed, and made appear; they recommend themselvet mort. 
or less ; and are capable of, and placed in, different stations in 
the society of mankind 

The former part of life then is to be considered as an im- 
portant opportunity, which nature puts into our hands, and 
which, when lost, is not to be recovered. And our being placed 
in a state of discipline throughout this life, for another world, 
is a providential disposition of things, exactly of the same kind 
as our being placed in a state of discipline during childhood, 
for mature age. Our condition in both respects is uniform and 
of a piece, and comprehended under one and the same genera] 
law of nature. 

\ And if we are not able at all to discern, how or in what way 
the present life could be our preparation for another, th].-) would 
! be no objection against the credibility of its being so. For we 
I do not discern how food and sleep contribute to the growth of 
the body, nor could have any thought that they would, before 
we had experience. Nor do children at all think, on the one 
hand, that the sports and exercises, to which they are so much 
addicted, contribute to their health and growth ; nor, on the 
other, of the necessity which there is for their being restrained 
in them; nor are they capable of understanding the use of 
many parts of discipline, which nevertheless they must be made 
i to go through, in order to qualify them for the business of ma- 
i ture age. Were we not able then, to discover in what respecta 
i the present life could form us for a future one, yet nothing 
I would be more supposable than that it might, in some respecte 
5 or other, from the general analogy of Providence. And this, 
I for aught I see, might reasonably be said, even though we 
I hould not take in the consideration of God’s moral government 
i over the world. But, 

\ IV. Take in this consideration, and consequently, that tha 
I eharacter of virtue and piety is a necessary qualification for thi 

1 

I 


MORAL DISCIPLINE. 


15b 


CHAP. V.] 

future state, and then we may distinctly sea how, and in wha* 
respects, the present life may be a preparation for it ; since we 
want, and are capable ofy improvement in that character^ by 
moral and religious habits ; and the present life is jit to be a 
state of discipline for such improvement ; in like manner, aa 
we have already observed, how and in what respects, infancy, 
.diildhood and youth, are a necessary preparation, and a natural 
>tate of discipline, for mature age. 

Nothing which we at present see would lead us to the thoughi 
ti a solitary inactive state hereafter; but, if we judge at all from 
the analogy of nature, we must suppose, according to the Scrip- 
ture account of it, that it will be a community. And there is 
no shadow of any thing unreasonable in conceiving, though there 
be no analogy for it, that this community will be, as the Scrip- 
ture represents it, under the more immediate, or, if such an ex- 
pression may be used, the more sensible government of God. 
Nor is our ignorance, what will be the employments of this 
happy community, nor our consequent ignorance, what parti- 
cular scope or occasion there will be for the exercise of veracity, 
justice, and charity, amongst the members of it with regard to 
each other, any proof that there will be no sphere of exercise 
for those virtues. Much less, if that were possible, is our igno- 
rance any proof that there will be no occasion for that frame of 
mind, or character, which is formed by the daily practice ol 
those particular virtues here, and which is a result from it. This 
at least must be owned in general, that as the government 
established in the univer.se is moral, the character of virtue and 
piety must, in some way or other, be the condition of our hap 
piness, or the qualification for it. 

Now from what is above observed concerning our natural 
power of habits, it is easy to see, that we are capable of moral 
improvement by discipline. And ^how greatly we want it, need 
not be proved to any one who is acquainted with the great 
wickedness of mankind, or even with those imperfections which 
the best are conscious of. But it is not perhaps distinctly 
attended to by every one, that the occasion which human crea- 
tures have for discipline, to improve in them this character of 
Firtue and piety, is to be traced up higher thau to excess in tb< 
i»assions, by indulgence and habits of vice. Mankind, and pel 
Saps all finite creatures, from the very constitution of the i 
mature, before habitj of virtue, are deficient, and in danger of 
d jviating from what is right, and therefore stand in need of 


154 


OF A STATE OF 


( FART 1 

nrtuous habits, for a security against this danger."^ I'or, toge- 
ther with the general principle of moral understanding, we hav€ 
in our inward frame various affections towards particular ex- 
ternal objects. These affections are naturally and of right, 
subject to the government of the moral principle, as to the 
occasions on which they may be gratified ; as to the times, de- 
grees, and manner, in which the objects of them may be pur- 
sued; but then the principle of virtue can neither excite them, 
nor prevent their being excited. On the contrary, they are 
naturally felt, when the objects of them are present to the 
mind, not only before all consideration, whether they can be 
obtained by lawful means, but after it is found they cannot. 
For the natural objects of affection continue so; the neces- 
saries, conveniences, and pleasures of life, remain naturally de- 
sirable, though they cannot be obtained innocently, nay, though 
they cannot possibly be obtained at all. And when the objects 
of any affection whatever cannot be obtained without unlawful 
means, but may be obtained by them, such affection, though its 
being excited, and its continuing some time in the mind, be as 
innocent as it is natural and necessary, yet cannot but be con- 
ceived to have a tendency to incline persons to venture upon 
such unlawful means, and therefore must be conceived as put- 
ting them in some danger of it. Now what is the general secu- 
rity against this danger, against their actually deviating from 
right ? As the danger is, so also must the security be from 
within, from the practical principle of virtue.*}* And the 


* [It is from this point of view that Aristotle determines, ovr' Spa 

ivtrei ovTC irapa (piaiv iyylvovTui aj aperai, dXXa ttc^vkoci (liv fifuv ht^aaBai airai, 
TtXtiovfifvois 6i Sid rou edovs — Ethic. Nicom., iii. i. “ In order to under- 
stand this it is to be observed, that virtue may be considered either 
as the quality of an action, or as the quality of a person. Consider- 
ed as the quality of an action, it consists, even according to Aristotle, 
in the reasonable moderation of the affection from which the action 
proceeds, whether this moderation be habitual to the person or not. 
Considered as the quality of the person, it consists in the habit of this 
reasonable moderation, in its having become the customary and uaiu^ 

disposition of the mind If a single action was sufiBcient to 

•tamp the character of any virtue upon the person who performed it, 
the most worthless of mankind might lay claim to all the virtues ; 
since there is no man who has not, upon some occasions, acted with 

f rudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude. Smith’s Moral Sent. 
Ti. S. 2.— F.] 

f It may be thought, that a sense of interest would as efifectualij 
reitrain creatures from doing wrong. But if by a seme of inUresU 


lllAP. V-l 


MORAL DISCIPLINE. 


155 


strengthening or improving this principle, considered as prac- 
tical, or as a principle of action, will lessen the danger or in- 
crease the security against it. And this moral principle is 
capable of improvement, by proper discipline and exercise ; by 
recollecting the practical impressions which example and ex- 
perience have made upon us ; and, instead of following humour 
and mere inclination, by continually attending to the equity and 
right of the case, in whatever we are engaged, be it in greater 
v'^r less matters, and accustoming ourselves always to act upon it, 
as being itself the just and natural motive of action; and as 
this moral course of behaviour must necessarily, under divine 
government, be our final interest. Thus the principle of 
virtue, improved, into a habit, of which improvement we art 
thus capable, will plainly be, in proportion to the strength of 
it, a security against the danger which finite creatures are in, 
from the very nature of propension, or particular affections 
This way of putting the matter, supposes particular affections to 
remain in a future state, which it is scarce possible to avoid 
supposing. And if they do, we clearly see, that acquired habits 
of virtue and self-government may be necessary for the regula- 
tion of them. However, though we were not distinctly to take 
in this supposition, but to speak only in general, the thing 
really comes to the same. For habits of virtue, thus acquired 
by discipline, are improvement in virtue ; and improvement in 
virtue must be advancement in happiness, if the government of 
the universe be moral. 

From these things we may observe, and it will farther show 
this our natural and original need of being improved by disci- 

meant, a speculative conviction or belief that such and such indul- 
gence would occasion them greater uneasiness, upon the whole, than 
satisfaction, it is contrary to present experience to say, that this 
sense of interest is sufficient to restrain them from thus indulging 
themselves. And if by a sense of interest, is meant, a practical regard 
to what is upon the whole our happiness, this is not only coincident 
with the principle of virtue or moral rectitude, but is a part of the 
idea itself. And, it is evident, this reasonable self-love wants to be 
improved, as really as any principle in our nature. For we daily see 
it overmatched, not only by the more boisterous passions, but by 
curiosity, shame, love of imitation, by any thing, even indolence; 
especially if the interest, the temporal interest, suppose, which is thi 
end of such self-love, be at a distance. So greatly are profligate mea 
mistaken, when they afiirm they are wholly governed by interesied- 
acs 3 and self-love ; and so little cause is there for moralists to di» 
daim this principle. See pp. 140, 141. 


156 


or A state of 


[PART 1 


pline, how it comes to pass, that creatures, made upright, fall 
and that those who preserve their uprightness, by so doing 
raise themselves to a more secure state of virtue. To say thai 
ths former is accounted for by the nature of liberty, is to say 
no more than that an event’s actually happening is accounted foi 
by a mere possibility of its happening. But it seems distinctly 
conceivable from the very nature of particular affections or pro- 
fcnsions. For, suppose creatures intended for such a partk'ulai 
itate of life, for which such propensions were necessary ; 3up- 
poee them endued with such propensions, together with moral 
anderstanding, as well including a practical sense of virtue as a 
speculative perception of it ; and that all these several princi- 
ples, both natural and moral, forming an inward constitution of 
mind, were in the most exact proportion possible; i. e. in a 
proportion the most exactly adapted to their intended state of 
life ; such creatures would be made upright, or finitely perfect. 
Now particular propensions, from their very nature, must be 
felt, the objects of them being present, though they cannot be 
gratified at all, or not with the allowance of the moral principle. 
But if they can be gratified without its allowance, or by contra- 
dicting it, then they must be conceived to have some tendency, 
in how low a degree soever, yet some tendency, to induce per- 
sons to such forbidden gratification. This tendency, in some 
one particular propension, may be increased, by the greatei 
frequency of occasions naturally exciting it, than of occasions 
exciting others. The least voluntary indulgence in forbidden 
circumstances, though but in thought, will increase this wrong 
tendency, and may increase it furtfcr, till, peculiar conjunctures 
perhaps conspiring, it becomes effect; and danger of deviating 
from right, ends in actual deviation from it : a danger necessa- 
rily arising from the very nature of propension, and which 
therefore could not have been prevented, though it might have 
been escaped, or got innocently through. The case would be, 
as if we were to suppose a straight path marked out for a per- 
son, in which such a degree of attention would keep him steady ; 
but if he would not attend in this degree, any one of a thousand 
objects catching his eye, might lead him out of it. Now it ii 
impossible to say, how much even the first full overt act of 
tfregularity might disorder the inward constitution, unsettle the 
kdjustments, and alter the proportions which formed it, and in 
which the uprightness of its make consisted. But repetition 
of irregularities would pi oduce habits : and thus the conatita 


CHAP. V.] 


MURAL DISCIPLINE 


157 


tion would be (ipoiled, and creatures, made upright become co^ 
rupt and depraved in their settled character, propo/tionably to 
their repeated irregularities in occasional acts. But, on the con 
trary, these creatures might have improved and raised themselves 
to a higher and more secure state of virtue, by the contrary be- 
haviour, by steadily following the moral principle, supposed to 
be one part of their nature, and thus withstanding that unavoid- 
able danger of defection, which necessarily arose from propension, 
Cho other part of it. hbr, by thus preserving their integrity for 
jome time, their danger would lessen, since propensions, by being 
inured to submit, would do it more easily and of course ; and 
their security against this lessening danger would increase, since 
the moral principle would gain additional strength by exercise ; 
both which things are implied in the notion of virtuous habits. 
Thus then vicious indulgence is not only criminal in itself, but 
also depraves the inward constitution and character. And vir- 
tuous self-government is not only right in itself, but also im- 
proves the inward constitution or character ; and may improve 
it to such a degree, that though we should suppose it impossible 
for particular affections to be absolutely coincident with the 
moral principle, and consequently should allow, that such crea- 
tures as have been above supposed would for ever remain defect- 
ive ; yet their danger of actually deviating from right may bo 
almost infinitely lessened, and they fully fortified against what 
remains of it; if that may be called danger, against which there 
is an adequate efiectual security. But still, this their higher 
perfection may continue to consist in habits of virtue formed in 
a state of discipline, and this their more complete security re- 
main to proceed from them. And thus it is plainly conceivable, 
that creatures without blemish, as they came out of the hands 
of God, may be in danger of going wrong, and so may stand in 
need of the security of virtuous habits additional to the moral 
principle wrought into their natures by him. That which is 
the ground of their danger, or their want of security, may be 
considered as a deficiency in them, to which virtuous habits are 
the natural supply. And as they are naturally capable of being 
raised and improved by discipline, it may be a thing fit and 
requisite, that they should be placed in circumstances with an 
iye to it; in circumstances peculiarly fitted to be, to them, a 
ftate of discipline for their improvement in virtue. 

But how much more strongly must this hold with respect ta 
liiose who have corrupted their natures, are fallen from their 
14 


158 


OP A STATE OF 


[PART 1 

original lectitude, a*id whose passions arc become excessive hy 
repeated violations of their inward constitution ? Upright crea- 
tures may want to be improved ; depraved creatures want to be 
renewed. Education and discipline, which may be in all degrees 
and sorts of gentleness and severity, is expedient for those ; but 
must be absolutely necessary for these. For these, discipline of 
the severer sort too, and in the higher degrees of it, must 1)0 
necessary, in order to wear out vicious habits ; to recover their 
primitive strength of self-government, which indulgence must 
aavo weakened; to repair as well as raise into a habit, the 
flioral principle, in order to their arriving at a secure state of 
virtuous happiness. 

Now whoever will consider the thing, may clearly see, that the 
present world is peculiarly Jit to be a state of discipline for this 
purpose, to such as will set themselves to amend and improve. 
For, the various temptations with which we are surrounded ; our 
experience of the deceits of wickedness; having been in many in- 
stances led wrong ourselves ; the great viciousness of the world ; 
the infinite disorders consequent upon it; our being made ac- 
quainted with pain and sorrow, either from our own feeling of it, 
or from the sight of it in others ; these things, though some of 
them may indeed produce wrong effects upon our minds ; yet 
when duly reflected upon, have all of them a direct tendency to 
bring us to a settled moderation and reasonableness of temper ; 
the contrary both to thoughtless levity, and also to that unre- 
strained self-will, and violent bent to follow present inclination, 
which may be observed in undisciplined minds. Such experience, 
as the present state affords of the frailty of our nature, of the 
boundless extravagance of ungoverned passion, of the power which 
an infinite Being has over us, by the various capacities of misery 
which he has given us ; in short, that kind and degree of expe- 
rience which the present state affords us, that the constitution 
of nature is such, as to admit the possibility, the danger, and 
the actual event of creatures losing their innocence and happi 
ness, and becoming vicious and wretched ; hath a tendency to 
give us a practical sense of things very different from a mer-*' 
speculative knowledge, that we are liable to vice, and capable 
of misery. And who knows, whether the security of creatures 
in the highest and most settled state of perfection, may not, in 
pr.rt, arise from their having had such a sense of things as this, 
formed, and habitually fixed within them, in some state of pro- 
b'ition ? And passing through the present i^orld with thai 


CHAP V.] 


MORAL DISCIPLINE, 


159 


moral attention which is necessary to the acting a right part in 
it, may leave everlasting impressions of this sort upon out 
minds. But to be a little more distinct : allurements to what 
is wrong; dijQficulties in the discharge of our duty; our not 
being able to act a uniform right part without some thought 
and care ; and the opportunities which we have, or imagine we 
have, of avoiding what we dislike, or obtaining what we desire, 
by unlawful means, when we either cannot do it at all, or at 
least not so easily, by lawful ones ; these things, i. e. the snares 
and temptations of vice, are what render the present world p/^ 
culiarly fit to be a state of discipline to those who will preserve 
their integrity : because they render being upon our guard, 
resolution, and the denial of our passions, necessary in order to 
that end. And the exercise of such particular recollection, 
intention of mind, and self-government, in the practice of virtue, 
has, from the make of our nature, a peculiar tendency to form 
habits of virtue, as implying not only a real, but also a more 
continued, and a more intense exercise of the virtuous principle; 
or a more constant and a stronger effort of virtue exerted into 
act. Thus suppose a person to know himself to be in particular 
danger, for some time, of doing any thing wrong, which ^et he 
fully resolves not to do; continued recollection, and keeping 
upon his guard, in order to make good his resolution, is a con- 
tinued exerting of that act of virtue in a high degree, which 
need have been, and perhaps would have been, only instanta- 
neous and weak, had the temptation been so. It is indeed 
ridiculous to assert, that self-denial is essential to virtue and 
piety ; but it would have been nearer the truth, though not 
strictly the truth itself, to have said, that it is essential to dis- 
cipline and improvement. For though actions materially vir- 
tuous, which have no sort of difficulty, but are perfectly agree- 
able to our particular inclinations, may possibly be done only 
from these particular inclinations, and so may not be any exer- 
cise of the principle of virtue, i. e. not be virtuous actions at 
all ; yet, on the contrary, they may be an exercise of that prin- 
ciple, and, when they are, they have a tendency to form and 
6x the habit of virtue. But when the exercise of the virtuous 
principle is more continued, oftener repeated, and more intense, 
fts it must be in circumstances of danger, temptation, and diffi* 
cu.ty, of any kind and in any degree, this tendency is increased 
proportionably, and a more confirmed habit is the consequence. 

Tliis undoubtedly holds to a certain length, but how far 


160 


OF A STATE OF 


[PART L 


may hold, 1 know not. Neither our intellectual powers, noi 
our bodily strength, can be improved beyond such a degi’ee 
and both may be overwrought. Possibly there may be some* 
what analogous to this, with respect to the moral character; 
which is scarce worth considering. And I mention it only, lest 
it should come into some persons’ thoughts, not as an exception 
to the foregoing observations, which perhaps it is ; but as a con- 
futation of them, which it is not. And there may be several 
other exceptions. Observations of this kind cannot be supposed 
to hold minutely, and in every case. It is enough that thoj 
hi Id in general. And these plainly hold so far, as that from 
them may be seen distinctly, which is all that is intended bj 
them, that the present world is peculiarly jit to be a state oj 
discipline for our improvement in virtue and piety ; in the 
same sense as some sciences, by requiring and engaging the 
attention, not to be sure of such persons as will not, but of such 
as will, set themselves to them, are fit to form the mind to 
habits of attention. 

Indeed the present state is so far from proving, in event, a 
discipline of virtue to the generality of men, that on the con- 
trary, they seem to make it a discipline of vice. And the 
viciousness of the world is, in difierent ways, the great tempta- 
tion which renders it a state of virtuous discipline, in the degree 
it is to good men. The whole end, and the whole occasion, of 
mankind being placed in such a state as the present, is not pre- 
tended to be accounted for. That which appears amidst the 
general corruption is, that there are some persons, who, having 
within them the principle of amendment and recovery, attend 
to and follow the notices of virtue and religion, be they more 
clear or more obscure, which are afforded them ; and that the 
present world is, not only an exercise of virtue in these persons, 
but an exercise of it in ways and degi’ees peculiarly apt to im- 
prove it; apt to improve it, in some respects, even beyond what 
would be, by the exercise of it required in a perfectly virtuous 
society, or in a society of equally imperfect virtue with them- 
selves. But that the present world does not actually become a 
state of moral discipline to many, even to the generality, i. e, 
that they do not improve or grow better in it, cannot be urged 
113 a proof that it was not intended for moral discipline, by any 
who at all observe the analogy of nature. For, of the numerous 
seeds of vegetables and bodies of animals, which are adapted 
and put in the way, to improve to such a point or state vf nsb 


CHAP. V.J 


MORAL DISCIPLINE. 


161 


tural maturity and perfection, we do not see perhaps that on^ 
in a million actually does. Far the greatest part of them decay 
before they are improved to it, and appear to be absolutely 
destroyed. Yet no one, who does not deny all final causes, will 
deny, that those seeds and bodies which do attain to that point 
of maturity and perfection, answer the end for which they were 
really designed by nature ; and therefore that nature designed 
them for such perfection. And I cannot forbear adding, 
though it is not to the present purpose, that the appearance of 
such an amazing waste in nature, with respect to these se^ds 
»nd bDdies, by foreign causes, is to us as unaccountable, as, 
what is much more terrible, the present and future ruin of so 
many moral agents by themselves, i. e. by vice. 

Against this whole notion of moral discijline it may be 
objected, in another way, that so far as a course of behaviour, 
materially virtuous, proceeds from hope and fear, so far it is 
only a discipline and strengthening of self-love.* But' doing 
what God commands, because he commands it, is obedience, 
though it proceeds from hope or fear. And a course of such 
obedience will form habits of it : and a constant regard to ve- 
racity, justice, and charity, may form distinct habits of these 
particular virtues, and will certainly form habits of self- 
government, and of denying our inclinations, whenever veracity, 
justice, or charity requires it. Nor is there any foundation for 
this great nicety, with which some affect to distinguish in this 
case, in order to depreciate all religion proceeding from hope or 
fear. For veracity, justice and charity, regard to God^a 
authority, and to our own chief interest, are not only all three 
coincident, but each of them is, in itself, a just and natura. 
motive or principle of action. And he who begins a good life 
from any one of them, and perseveres in it, as he is already in 
some degree, so he cannot fail of becoming more and more of 
that character, which is correspondent to the constitution of 
nature as moral, and to the relation which God stands in to ua 
as moral governor of it; nor consequently, can he fail of ob- 
taining that happiness, which this constitution and relation 
necessarily suppose connected with that character. 

These several observations, concerning the active principle ol 
virtue and obedience to God’s commands, are applicable to pas 


» [The reference here is no doubt to Lord Shaftesbury’s Inqrir} 
•cncerning Virtue,” P. III. S. 3. — F ] 

14 * 


162 


OF A STATE OF 


[PART I. 

sive submissi)n or resignation to his will; which is another 
essential part of a right character, connected with the former, 
and very much in our power to form ourselves to. It may be 
imagined, that nothing but afflictions can give occasion for or 
require this virtue ; that it can have no respect to, nor be any 
way necessary to qualify for a state of perfect happiness ; but it 
is not experience which can make us think thus. Prosperity 
itself, whilst any thing supposed desirable is not ours, begets 
>xtravagant and unbounded thoughts. Imagination is alto* 
gcther as much a source of discontent as any thing in our ex- 
ternal condition. It is indeed true that there can be no scope 
for patience, when sorrow shall be no more ; but there may be 
need of a temper of mind, which shall have been formed by 
patience. For though self-love, considered merely as an active 
principle leading us to pursue our chief interest, cannot but be 
uniformly coincident with the principle of obedience to God^s 
commands, our interest being rightly understood ; because this 
obedience, and the pursuit of our own chief interest, must be in 
every case one and the same thing; yet it may be questioned, 
whether self-love, considered merely as the desire of our own 
interest or happiness, can, from its nature, be thus absolutely 
and uniformly coincident with the will of God, any more than 
particular affections can ;* coincident in such sort, as not to be 
liable to be excited upon occasions and in degrees, impossible to 
be gratified consistently with the constitution of things, or the 
divine appointments. So that habits of resignation may, upon 
this account, be requisite for all creatures ; habits, I say, which 
signify what is formed by use. However, in general, it is ob- 
vious, that both self-love and particular affections in human 
creatures, considered only as passive feelings, distort and rend 
the mind, and therefore stand in need of discipline. Now de- 
nial of those particular affections, in a course of active virtue 
and obedience to God's will, has a tendency to moderate them, 
and seems also to have a tendency to habituate the mind to be 
easy and satisfied with that degree of happiness which is allotted 
uj, i. e. to moderate self-love.'|' But the proper discipline 

* Page 144. 

I Duengagement is absolutely necessary to enjoyment; and a 
person may have so steady and fixed an eye upon his own interest, 
whatever he places it in, as may hinder him from attending to many 
gratifications within his reach, which others have their minds /rw and 
apen to. Ov^r fon Iness for a child is not generally thought to lie foi 


MORAL DrSCIPLINE. 


163 


CHAP. V.J 

tor resignation is affliction. For a right behavicur under that 
trial, recollecting ourselves so as to consider it in the view in 
which religion teaches us to consider it, as from the hand of 
God ; receiving it as what he appoints, or thinks proper to per- 
mit, in his world, and under his government, this will habituate 
the mind to a dutiful submission ; and such submission, toge- 
ther with the active principle of obedience, make up the temper 
and character in us which answers to his sovereignty, and which 
absolutely belongs to the condition of our being, as dependent 
creatures. Nor can it be said, that this is only breaking the 
mind to a submission to mere power ; for mere power may be 
accidentdl, and precarious, and usurped; but it is forming 
within ourselves the temper of resignation to his rightful autho- 
rity, who is, by nature, supreme over all. 

Upon the whole, such a character, and such qualifications, 
are necessary for a mature state of life in the present world, as 
nature alone does in nowise bestow, but has put it upon us in 
great part to acquire, in our progress from one stage of life to 
another, Irom childhood to mature age ; put it upon us to ac- 
quire them, by giving us capacities of doing it, and by placing 
us, in the beginning of life, in a condition fit for it. And this 
is a general analogy to our condition in the present world, as in 
a state of moral discipline for another. It is in vain then to 
object against the credibility of the present life’s being intended 
for this purpose, that all the trouble and the danger unavoid- 
ably accompanying such discipline might have been saved us, 
by our being made at once the creatures and the characters 
which we were to be. For we experience, that what we were to 
he, was to be the effect of what we would do ; and that the 
general conduct of nature is, not to save us trouble or danger, 
but to make us capable of going through them, and to put it 
upon us to do so. Acquirements of our own, experience and 
habits, are the natural supply to our deficiencies, and security 


its advantage ; and if there be any guess to be made from appear- 
ances, surely the character we call selfish is not the most promising 
for happiness. Such a temper may plainly be, and exert itself in a 
degree and manner which may give unnecessary and useless solicitude 
and anxiety, — in a degree or manner which may prevent obtaining 
Jie means and materials of enjoyment, as well as the making use of 
them. Immoderate self-love does very ill consult its own interest; 
and, how mucn soever a paradox it may appear, it is certainly true, 
that, even from self-love, we should endeavour to get over all inordi- 
nate regard to, and consideration of ourselves.” — Sermons, xi. p. 129.] 


164 OP A STATE OP MORAL DISCIPLINE. [PART ^ 

against our dangers ; since it is plainly natural to set ourselvea 
to acquire the qualifications, as the external things which wc 
stand in need of. In particular, it is as plainly a general law 
of nature, that we should, with regard to our temporal interest, 
form and cultivate practical principles within us, by attention, 
use, and discipline, as any thing whatever is a natural law,* 
chiefly in the beginning of life, but also throughout the whole 
course of it. And the alternative is left to our choice, either 
fco improve ourselves, and better our condition, or, in default of 
such improvement, to remain deficient and wretched. It is 
therefore perfectly credible, from the analogy of nature, that 
the same may be our case, with respect to the happiness of a 
future state, and the qualifications necessary for it. 

There is a third thing, which may seem implied in the pre- 
sent world^s being a state of probation, that it is a theatre of 
action for the manifestation of persons’ characters, with respect 
to a future one ; not to be sure to an all-knowing being, but to 
his creation, or part of it. This may, perhaps, be only a con- 
sequence of our being in a state of probation in the other 
senses. However, it is not impossible that men’s showing and 
making manifest what is in their heart, what their real character 
is, may have respect to a future life, in ways and manners 
which we are not acquainted with ; particularly it may be a 
means, for the Author of Nature does not appear to do any 
thing without means, of their being disposed of suitably to 
their characters, and of its being known to the creation, by way 
of example, that they are thus disposed of. But not to enter 
upon any conjectural account of this, one may just mention, 
that the manifestation of persons’ characters contributes very 
much, in various ways, to the carrying on a great part of that 
general course of nature respecting mankind, which comes 
under our observation at present. I shall only add, that pro- 
bation, in both these senses, as well as in that treated of in the 
preceding chapter, is implied in moral government; since by 
persons’ behaviour under it, their characters cannot but b« 
manifested, and if they behave well, improved. 


CHAP. VI.J OP THE OPINION OP NECESSIIP. 


m 


CHAP. VI. 

ly* the Opinion of JSTecessity, considered as influencing 
Practice. 

Throughout the foregoing Treatise it appears, that tno 
condition of mankind, considered as inhabitants of this world 
only, and under the government of Grod which we experience, 
is greatly analogous to our condition, as designed for another 
world, or under that farther government which religion teaches 
us. If therefore any assert, as a fatalist must, that the opinion 
of universal necessity is reconcilable with the former, there im- 
mediately arises a question in the way of analogy ; whether he 
must not also own it to be reconcilable with the latter, i. e. 
with the system of religion itself, and the proof of it. The 
reader then will observe, that the question now before us is not 
absolute, whether the opinion of fate be reconcilable with reli- 
gion; but hypothetical, whether, upon supposition of its being 
reconcilable with the constitution of nature, it be not recon- 
cilable with religion also? or, what pretence a fatalist — not 
other persons, but a fatalist — has to conclude, from his opinion, 
that there can be no such thing as religion ? And as the puzzle 
and obscurity, which must unavoidably arise from arguing upon 
so absurd a supposition as that of universal necessity, will, T 
fear, easily be seen, it will, I hope, as easily be excused. 

But since it has been all along taken for granted, as a thing 
proved, that there is an intelligent Author of Nature, or natural 
Governor of the world ; and since an objection may be made 
against the proof of this, from the opinion of universal necessity, 
as it may be supposed that such necessity will itself account for 
the origin and preservation of all things, it is requisite that 
this objection be distinctly answered ; or that it be shown, that 
a fatality, supposed consistent with what we certainly expe- 
rience, does not destroy the proof of an intelligent Author 
and Governor of Nature, before we proceed to consider, whether 
it destroys the proof of a moral governor of it, or of our being 
in a state of religion. 


166 OF THE OPINION OF NECESSITY, [PART 1 

Now, when it is said by a fatalist, that the wholi constitutioL 
of nature, and the actions of men, that every thing, and every 
mode and circumstance of every thing, is necessary, and could 
not possibly have been otherwise, it is to be observed, that thi.i 
necesssity does not exclude deliberation, choice, preference, and 
acting from certain principles, and to certain ends ; because all 
this is matter of undoubted experience, acknowledged by all, 
and what every man may, every moment, be conscious of. 
And from hence it follows, that necessity, alone and of itself, ifi 
m no sort an account of the constitution of nature, and how 
things came to he and to continue as they are; but only an 
account of this circumstance relating to their origin and con- 
tinuance, that they could not have been otherwise than they are 
and have been. The assertion, that every thing is by necessity 
of nature, is not an answer to the question; Whether the world 
came into being as it is, by an intelligent Agent forming it 
thus, or not, but to quite another question; Whether it came 
into being as it is, in that way and manner which we call 
necessarily, or in that way and manner which we call freely 
For suppose farther, that one who was a fatalist, and one who 
kept to his natural sense of things, and believed himself a free 
agent, were disputing together, and vindicating their respective 
opinions, and they should happen to instance in a house, they 
would agree that it was built % an architect. Their ditference 
concerning necessity and freedom, would occasion no difference 
of judgment concerning this, but only concerning another 
matter, whether the architect built it necessarily or freely. 
Suppose then they should proceed to inquire concerning the 
constitution of nature : in a lax way of speaking, one of them 
might say, it was by necessity, and the other by freedom ; but 
if they had any meaning to their words, as the latter must 
mean a free agent, so the former must at length be reduced to 
mean an agent, whether he would say one or more, acting by 
necessity; for abstract notions can do nothing. Indeed, wo 
ascribe to Grod a necessary existence, uncaused by any agent. 
For we find within ourselves the idea of infinity, i. e. immensity 
and eternity, impossible, even in imagination, to be removed out 
•'f being. We seem to discern intuitively, that there must, 
and cannot but be somewhat, external to ourselves, answering 
this idea, or the archetype of it. And from hence (for tku 
abstract, as much as any other, implies a concrete^ we eon- 
eluae, that there is, and cannot but be, an infinite and immciaaj 


CHAP. VI. J 


AS INFLUENCING PRACTICE. 


167 


3ternal Being ex. sting, prior to all design contiibuting to his 
existence, and exclusive of it.* And from the scantiness of 
language, a manner of speaking has been introduced, that 
necessity is the foundation, the reason, the account of the 
existence of God. But it is not alleged, nor can it be at all 
intended, that every thing exists as it does by this kind of 
necessity, a necessity antecedent in nature to design ; it cannot, 
I say, be meant, that every thing exists as it does, by this kind 
of necessity, upon several accounts; and particularly, because 
it is admitted that design, in the actions of men, contributes to 
many alterations in nature. For if any deny this, I shall not 
pretend to reason with them. 

From these things it follows, first. That when a fatalist asserts 
that every thing is hy necessity ^ he must mean, by an ageni 
acting necessarily : he must, I say, mean this; for I am very 
sensible he would not choose to mean it : and secondly. That 
the necessity by which such an agent is supposed to act, does 
not exclude intelligence and design. So that were the system 
of fatality admitted, it would just as much account for the for- 
mation of the world, as for the structure of a house, and no 
more. Necessity as much requires and supposes a necessary 
agent, as freedom requires and supposes a free agent to be the 
former of the world. And the appearances of design and of 
final causes in the constitution of nature, as really prove this 
acting agent to be an intelligent designer, or to act from choice, 
upon the scheme of necessity, supposed possible, as upon that 
of freedom. 

It appearing thus, that the notion of necessity does not destroy 
the proof, that there is an intelligent Author of Nature and 
natural Governor of the world, the present question, which the 
analogy before-mentionedf suggests, and which, I think, it will 
answer, is this : Whether the opinion of necessity, supposed 
consistent with possibility, with the constitution of the world, 
and the natural government which we experience exercised 
over it, destroys all reasonable ground of belief, that we are in 
a state of religion ; or whether that opinion be reconcilable 
with religion, with the system and the proof of it. 

* [This argument is taken by Butler from Dr. Clarke. Like all of 
Clarke’s attempted demonstrations of the being of God, it has been 
closely scrutinized and its validity questioned. See for !nstanc« 
Duke’s Analysis of Butler’s Analogy, appendix, p. 83 ] 

f- Page- 165. 


168 OF THE on N I ON of necessity, [part 1 

Suppose then a fatalist to educate an^' one, from his youth 
up, in his own principles; that the child should reason upon 
them, and conclude, that since he cannot possibly behave other- 
wise than he does, he is not a subject of blame or commendation, 
nor can deserve to be rewarded or punished : imagine him to 
eradicate the very perceptions of blame and commendation cut 
of his mind by means of this system ; to form his temper, and 
character, and behaviour to it; and from it to judge of the 
treatment he was to expect, say, from reasonable men, upon his 
K)ming abroad into the world; as the fatalist judges from this 
system, what he is to expect from the Author of Nature, and 
with regard to a future state. I cannot forbear stopping here 
to ask, whether any one of common sense would think fit, that 
a child should be put upon these speculations, and be left to 
apply them to practice ? And a man has little pretence to rea- 
son, who is not sensible that we are all children in speculations 
of this kind. However, the child would doubtless be highly 
delighted to find himself freed from the restraints of fear and 
shame, with which his playfellows were fettered and embar- 
rassed ; and highly conceited in his superior knowledge, so far 
beyond his years. But conceit and vanity would be the least 
bad part of the influence which these principles must have, 
when thus reasoned and acted upon, during the course of his 
education. He must either be allowed to go on, and be the 
plague of all about him, and himself too, even to his own de- 
struction, or else correction must be continually made use of, to 
supply the want of those natural perceptions of blame and com- 
mendation, which we have supposed to be removed, and to give 
him a practical impression of what he had reasoned himself out 
of the belief of, that he was in fact an accountable child, and to be 
punished for doing what he was forbid. It is therefore in reality 
impossible, but that the correction which he must meet with in 
the course of his education, must convince him, that if the 
scheme he was instructed in were not false, yet that he reasoned 
inconclusively upon it, and, somehow or other, misapplied it to 
practice and common life; as what the fatalist experiences of 
the conduct of Providence at present ought, in all reason, to 
oonvince him, that his scheme is misapplied, when applied to 
the subject of religion.* But supposing the child’s temper could 
remain still formed to the system, and his expectation of the 


* Page 163. 


CHAP. VI. 1 


AS INFLUENCING PRACTICE. 


169 


treatment he was to have in the world be regulated by it, so as 
to expect that no reasonable man would blame or punish him 
for anything he should do, because he could not help doing it; 
upon this supposition, it is manifest he would, upon his coming 
abroad into the world, be insupportable to society, and the treat- 
ment which he would receive from it, would render it so to him ; 
and he could not fail of doing somewhat very soon, for which 
he would be delivered over into the hands of civil justice. And 
hus, in the end, he would be convinced of the obligations he 
was under to his wise instructor. Or suppose this scheme of 
fatality, in any other way, applied to practice, such practical 
application of it will be found equally absurd, equally fallacious, 
in a practical sense : For instance, that if a man be destined to 
live such a time, he shall live to it, though he take no care of 
liis own preservation ; or if he be destined to die before that 
time, no care can prevent it; therefore all care about preserving 
one’s life is to be neglected ; which is the fallacy instanced in 
by the ancients. But now on the contrary, none of these prac- 
tical absurdities can be drawn, from reasoning upon the suppo- 
sition that we are free ; but all such reasoning, with regard to 
the common affairs of life, is justified by experience. And 
therefore, though it were admitted that this opinion of necessity 
were speculatively true, yet with regard to practice, it is as if it 
were false, so far as our experience reaches ; that is, to the whole 
of our present life. For, the constitution of the present world, 
and the condition in which we are actually placed, is as if we 
were free. And it may perhaps j ustly be concluded, that since the 
whole process of action, through every step of it, suspense, de- 
liberation, inclining one way, determining, and at last doing aa 
we determine, is as if we were free therefore we are so.* But 


* [Compare Berkeley’s Minute Philosopher, Dial. vii. s. 20 : — 
‘Euphr. — Tell me, Alciphron, do you think it involves a contradiction 
that God should make man free ? Alc. — I do not. Euphr. — It is 
then possible that there may be such a thing ? Alc. — This I do not 
deny. . . Euphr. — Would not such a one think that he acted, and 
condemn himself for some actions, and approve himself for others, 
&c. Tell me now, what other characters of your supposed free agent 
may not be found in man ?” So Clarke, Remarks on Collins’ Inquiry, 
p. 24 : “As to that which this gentleman calls the Fourth (but which 
is, indeed, the only) Action of man, viz.. Doing as we will, or actually 
exerting this self-moving faculty. Of this I say, as before, that since, 
in all cases, it d>es now, by experience, seem to us to be free, that is, 
seems to us to be really a self-moving power, exactly in the sami 

15 


170 


OF THE OPINION OP NECESSITY, 


PAST i 


the thing here insisted upon is, that under the pre5«nt natural 
government of the world, we find we are treated and dealt with 
as if we were free, prior to all consideration whether we are or 
not. Were this opinion, therefore, of necessity, admitted to be 
ever so true, yet such is in fact our condition and the natural 
course of things, that whenever we apply it to life and practice, 
this application always misleads us, and cannot but mislead us, 
in a most dreadful manner, with regard to our present interest. 
And how can people think themselves so very secure then, that 
the same application of the same opinion may not mislead them 
also, in some analogous manner, with respect to a future, a more 
general, and more important interest ? For, religion being a 
practical subject, and the analogy of nature showing us, that 
we have not faculties to apply this opinion, were it a true one, 
to practical subjects; whenever we do apply it to the subject of 
religion, and thence conclude that we are free from its obliga 
tions, it is plain this conclusion cannot be depended upon. 
There will still remain just reason to think, whatever appear 
ances are, that we deceive ourselves; in somewhat of a like 
manner as when people fancy they can draw contradictory con- 
clusions from the idea of infinity. 

From these things together, the attentive reader will see it 
follows,' that if upon supposition of freedom, the evidence of re- 
ligion be conclusive, it remains so, upon supposition of neces- 
sity ; because the notion of necessity is not applicable to practical 
subjects ; i. e. with respect to them, is as if it were not true. 
Nor does this contain any reflection upon reason, but only upon 
what is unreasonable. For to pretend to act upon reason, in 
opposition to practical principles which the Author of our na- 
ture gave us to act upon, and to pretend to apply our reason to 
subjects, with regard to which our own short views, and even 
our experience, will show us it cannot be depended upon, — and 
such at best the subject of nec-ssity must be, — this is vanity, 
conceit, and unreasonableness 


BiMiner as it would do upon supposition of our being actually fret 
agents; the bare physical possibility of our being so framed by th« 
Author of Nature, as to be unavoidably deceived in this matter b_y 
every experience of every action we perform, is no more any just 
ground to doubt the truth of our liberty, than the bare natural possi- 
bility of our being all our life-time, as in a dream, deceived in oui 
belief of the existence of the material world, is any just grmnd to 
doubt of the reality of its existence.” — F ] 


CHAP. VI.] AS INFLUENCING PRACTICE. 171 

But this is not all. For we find within ourselves a will, and 
are conscious of a character. Now if this in us be reconcilable 
with fate, it is reconcilable with it in the Author of Nature. 
And besides, natural government and final causes imply a cha- 
racter and a will in the Governor and Designer ;* a will con- 
cerning the creatures whom he governs. The Author of 
Nature then being certainly of some character or other, not- 
withstanding necessity, it is evident this necessity is as recon- 
cilable with the particular character of benevolence, v€rajity, 
and justice in him, which attributes are the foundation of reli- 
gion, as with any other character ; since we find this necessity 
no more hinders men from being benevolent than eruel ; true, 
than faithless; just, than unjust; or, if the fatalist pleases, 
what we call unjust. For it is said indeed, that what, upon 
supposition of freedom, would be just punishment, upon suppo- 
sition of necessity, becomes manifestly unjust; because it is 
punishment inflicted for doing that which persons could not 
avoid doing. As if the necessity, which is supposed to destroy 
the injustice of murder, for instance, would not also destroy 
the injustice of punishing it. However, as little to the purpose 
as this objection is in itself, it is very much to the purpose to 
observe from it, how the notions of justice and injustice remain, 
even whilst we endeavour to suppose them removed ; how they 
force themselves upon the mind, even whilst we are making 
suppositions destructive of them : for there is not, perhaps, a 
man in the world, but would be ready to make this objection at 
first thought. 

But though it is most evident, that universal necessity, if it 
be reconcilable with any thing, is reconcilable with that charac- 
ter in the Author of Nature, which is the foundation of religion ; 

Yet, does it not plainly destroy the proof, that he is of that 
character, and consequently the proof of religion?'^ By no 
means. For we find that happiness and misery are not our 
fate in any such sense as not to be the consequences of our 
behaviour, but that they are the consequences of it.f We find 
God exercises the same kind of government over us, with that 
which a father exercises over his children, and a civil magis- 


* By will and character is meant that, which, in speaking of men, 
we should express, not only by these words, but also by the words 
impeTyta^tey dispositions, practical principles ; that whole frame of rtxindi 
from whence we act in one manner rather than another. 
j Chap. II. 


17‘2 OF THE OPINION OF NECESSITY, [PART I 

trate over his subjects. Now, whatever becomes of abstract 
questions concerning liberty and necessity, it evidently appears 
to us, that veracity and justice must be the natural rule and 
measure of exercising this authority, or government, to a Being 
who can have no competitions, or interfering of interests, with 
his creatures and his subjects. 

But as the doctrine of liberty, though we experience its truth, 
may be perplexed with difficulties which run up into the most 
abstruse of all speculations, and as the opinion of necessity 
seems to be the very basis upon which infidelity grounds itself, 
it may be of some use to offer a more particular proof of the 
obligations of religion, which may distinctly be shown not to be 
destroyed by this opinion. 

The proof from final causes of an intelligent Author of Na- 
ture is not affected by the opinion of necessity; supposing 
necessity a thing possible in itself, and reconcilable with the 
constitution of things.* And it is a matter of fact, independent 
on this or any other speculation, that he governs the world by 
the method of rewards and punishments ;t and also that he hati 
given us a moral faculty, by which we distinguish between ac- 
tions. and approve some as virtuous and of good desert, and dis- 
approv5 others as vicious and of ill desert. J Now this moral 
discemment implies, in the notion of it, a rule of action, and a 
rule of a very peculiar kind ; for it carries in it authority and a 
right f*f direction ; authority in such a sense, as that we cannot 
depart from it without being self-condemned.§ And that the 
dictates of this moral faculty, which are by nature a rule to us, 
are moreover the laws of God, laws in a sense including sanc- 
tions, may be thus proved. Consciousness of a rule or guide 
of action, in creatures who are capable of considering it a? 
given them by their Maker, not only raises immediately a sense 
of duty, but also a sense of security in following it, and c 
danger in deviating from it. A direction of the Author of 
Nature, given to creatures capable of looking upon it as such, is 
plainly a command from him : and a command from him neces- 
sarily includes in it, at least, an implicit promise in case of 
obedience, or threatening in case of disobedience. But then 
the sense or perception of good and ill desert, || which is con- 
tained in the moral discernment, renders the sanction explicit, 
tad makes it appear, as one may say, expressed. For since hii 

* PagQ 165, &c. f CJiap. II. J Dissertation IL 

2 Sermon II xt the Rolls ^ Dissertation II. 


CHAP VT I AS TNFLLENCIPG PRACTICE. 173 

method govern ment is to reward and punish actions, hia 

having annexed to some actions an inseparable sense of good 
descrtj and to others of ill, this surely amounts to declaring 
upon whom his punishments shall be inflicted, and his rewards 
be bestowed. For be must have given us this discernment and 
sense of things, as a presentiment of what is to be hereafter ; 
that is, by way of information beforehand, what wc are finally 
to expect in this world. There is then most evident ground to 
think, that the government of Grod, upon the whole, will be 
found to correspond to the nature which he has given us, and 
that in the upshot and issue of things, happiness and misery 
shall, in fact and event, be made to follow virtue and vice re* 
spectively; as he has already, in so peculiar a manner, asso- 
ciated the ideas of them in our minds. And from hence might 
easily be deduced the obligations of religious worship, were it 
only to be considered as a means of preserving upon our minds 
a sense of this moral government of God, and securing our obe- 
dience to it ; which yet is an extremely imperfect view of that 
most important duty. 

Now I say, no objection from necessity can lie against this 
general proof of religion : none against the proposition reason- 
ed upon, that we have such a moral faculty and discernment ,* 
because this is a mere matter of fact, a thing of experience, that 
human kind is thus constituted : none against the conclusion ; 
because it is immediate, and wholly from this fact. For the 
conclusion that God will finally reward the righteous and punish 
the wicked, is not here drawn, from its appearing to us fit* that 


* However I am far from intending to deny, that the will of God is 
determined by what is fit, by the right and reason of the case ; though 
one chooses to decline matters of such abstract speculation, and ti 
speak with caution when one does speak of them. But if it be intel 
ligible to say, that it is fit and reasonable for every one to consult his own 
happiness, then fitness of action, or the right and reason of the case, is an 
intelligible manner of speaking. And it seems as inconceivable, to 
suppose God to approve one course of action, or one end, preferably 
to another, which yet his acting at all from design implies that he 
does, without supposing somewhat prior in that end, to be the ground 
of the preference ; as to suppose him to discern an abstract proposi- 
tion to be true, without supposing somewhat prior to it to be the 
ground of the discernment. It doth not, therefore, appear, that 
moral right is any more relative to perception than abstract truth is; 
or that it is any more improper to speak of the fitness and rightness 
of actions and ends, as founded in the nature cf things, than to sx»e»li 
of abstract truth as thus founded, 

15 * 


174 Olr THE OPINION OP NECESSITY, [[PAR': u 

he should, but from its appearing, that he has told us. he todl 
And this he hath certainly told us, in the promise and threat- 
ening, which, it hath been observed, the notion of a command 
implies, and the sense of good and ill desert, which he has given 
as, more distinctly expresses. And this reasoning from fact is 
confirmed, and in some degree, even verified, by other facts ; by 
the natural tendencies of virtue and of vice and by this, that 
God, in the natural course of his providence, punishes vicious 
tctions as mischievous to society, and also vicious actions aa 
euch, in the strictest sense. f So that the general proof of reli- 
iron is unanswerably real, even upon the wild supposition which 
we are arguing upon. 

It must likewise be observed farther, that natural religion 
hath, besides this, an external evidence, which the doctrine of 
nr^cessity, if it could be true, would not affect. For suppose a 
person, by the observations and reasoning above, or by any 
other, convinced of the truth of religion ; that there is a God, 
who made the world, who is the moral Governor and Judge of 
mankind, and will, upon the whole, deal with every one accord- 
ing to his works ; I say, suppose a person convinced of this by 
reason, but to know nothing at all of antiquity, or the present 
state of mankind, it would be natural for such a one to be in- 
quisitive, what was the history of this system of doctrine; at 
what time, and in what manner, it came first into the world; 
and whether it were believed by any considerable part of it. 
And were he upon inquiry to find, that a particular person, in a 
late age, first of all proposed it as a deduction of reason, and 
that mankind were before wholly ignorant of it ; then, though 
its evidence from reason would remain, there would be no addi- 
tional probability of its truth, from the account of its discovery. 
But instead of this being the fact of the case, on the contrary, 
he would find what could not but afford him a very strong con- 
firmation of its truth : First, That somewhat of this system, 
with more or fewer additions and alterations, hath been profess- 
ed in all ages and countries of which we have any certain infor- 
mation relating to this matter. Secondly, That it is certain 
historical fact, so far as we can trace things up, that this whole 
system of belief, that there is one God, the Creator and moral 
Governor of the world, and that mankind is in a state of reli- 
gion, was received in the first ages. And thirdly, That as 


Page 128, 


Y Pago, 121, &c. 


CHAP. VI.] AS INFLUENCING PRACTICE. 175 

there is no hint or intimation in history, that this system was 
first reasoned out; so there is express historical or traditional 
evidence, as ancient as history, that it was taught first by reve- 
lation. Now these things must be allowed to be of great weight 
The first of them, general consent, shows this system to be con- 
formable to the common sense of mankind. The second, name- 
ly, that religion was believed in the first ages of the worlds 
especially as it does not appear that there were then any super- 
titious or false additions to it, cannot but be a farther confirmo- 
Son of its truth. For it is a proof of this alternative; either 
that it came into the world by revelation, or that it is natural, 
obvious, and forces itself upon the mind. The former of these 
is the conclusion of learned men. And whoever will consider, 
how unapt for speculation rude and uncultivated minds are, 
will, perhaps from hence alone, be strongly inclined to believe 
it the truth. And as it is shown in the second part* of this 
Treatise, that there is nothing of such peculiar presumption 
against a revelation in the beginning of the world, as there is 
supposed to be against subsequent ones ; a sceptic could not, I 
think, give any account, which would appear more probable 
even to himself, of the early pretences to revelation, than by 
supposing some real original one, from whence they were copied. 
And the third thing above mentioned, that there is express his 
torical or traditional evidence, as ancient as history, of the sys 
tern of religion being taught mankind by revelation ; this must 
be admitted as some degree of real proof, that it was so taught. 
For why should not the most ancient tradition be admitted as 
some additional proof of a fact, against which there is no pre- 
sumption ? And this proof is mentioned here, because it has 
its weight to show, that religion came into the world by revela- 
tion, prior to all consideration, of the proper authority of any 
book supposed to contain it; and even prior to all considera- 
tion, whether the revelation itself be uncorruptly handed down 
and related, or mixed and darkened with fables. Thus the 
historical account which we have, of the origin of religion, 
taking in all circumstances, is a real confirmation of its truth, 
no way affected by the opinion of necessity. And the ex- 
ternal evidence, even of natural religion, is by no means incon- 
liderable. 

But it is carefully to be observed, and ought to be recollected 


* Chap. 2. 


176 OP THE OPINION OP NECESSITY, [PART 1 

after all proofs of virtue and religion, which are only general, 
that as speculative reason may be neglected, prejudiced, and 
deceived, so also may our moral understanding be impaired and 
perverted, and the dictates of it not impartially attended to. 
This indeed proves nothing against the reality of our speculative 
or practical faculties of perception; against their being intended 
by nature to inform us in the theory of things, and instruct us 
how we are to behave, and what we are to expect, in conse* 
juence of our behaviour. Yet our liableness, in the degree we 
are liable, to prejudice, and perversion, is a most serious admo- 
cition to us to be upon our guard, with respect to what is of 
such consequence, as our determinations concerning virtue and 
religion ; and particularly not to take custom, and fashion, and 
slight notions of honour, or imaginations of present ease, use, 
and convenience to mankind, for the only moral rule.* 

The foregoing observations, drawn from the nature of the 
thing, and the history of religion, amount, when taken together, 
to a real practical proof of it, not to be confuted ; such a proof 
as, considering the infinite importance of the thing, T apprehend 
would be admitted fully sufficient, in reason, to influence the 
actions of men, who act upon thought and reflection ; if it were 
admitted that there is no proof of the contrary. But it may 
be said ; There are many probabilities, which cannot indeed 
be confuted ; i. e. shown to be no probabilities, and yet may be 
overbalanced by greater probabilities on the other side ; much 
more by demonstration. And there is no occasion to object 
against particular arguments alleged for an opinion, when the 
opinion itself may be clearly shown to be false, without med- 
dling with such arguments at all, but leaving them just as they 
are.f Now the method of government by rewards and punish- 
ments, and especially rewarding and punishing good and ill 
desert, as such, respectively, must go upon supposition, that wo 
are free, and not necessary agents.J And it is incredible, that 
the Author of Nature should govern us upon a supposition as 
true, which he knows to be false ; and therefore absurd to think 
he will reward or punish us for our actions hereafter; especially 
that he will do it under the notiou, that they are of good or ill 
desert. Here then, the matter is brought to a point. And 
ihe answer to all this is full, and not to be evaded : that th€ 


* Dissertation 2. | Page 83, 89. 

X See note at the end of this chapter. 


CHAP. VT. 1 


AS INFLIjENCING PRACTICE. 


177 


whole constitution and course of things, the whole analogy of 
providence shows, beyond possibility of doubt, that the conclu* 
sion from this reasoning is false, wherever the fallacy lies. The 
doctrine of freedom indeed clearly shows where — in supposing 
ourselves necessary, when in truth we are free agents. But 
upon the supposition of necessity, the fallacy lies in taking for 
granted, that it is incredible necessary agents should be rewarded 
and punished. But that, somehow or other, the conclusion now 
mentioned is false, is most certain. For it is fact, that God 
does govern even brute creatures by the method of rewards 
and punishments, in the natural course of things. And men 
are rewarded and punished for their actions, punished for 
actions mischievous tc society as being so, punished for vicious 
actions as such, by the natural instrumentality of each other, 
under the present conduct of Providence. Nay even the 
affection of gratitude, and the passion of resentment, and the 
rewards and punishments following from them, which in general 
are to be considered as natural, i. e. from the Author of Na- 
ture : these rewards and punishments, being naturally* annexed 
to actions considered as implying good intention and good desert, 
ill intention and ill desert ; these natural rewards and punish- 
ments, I say, are as much a contradiction to the conclusion 
above, and show its falsehood, as a more exact and complete 
rewarding and punishing of good and ill desert, as such. So 
that ‘if it be incredible that necessary agents should be thus 
rewarded and punished, then men are not necessary, but free ; 
since it is matter of fact that they are thus rewarded and 
punished. But if on the contrary, which is the supposition we 
nave been arguing upon, it be insisted, that men are necessary 
agents, then there is nothing incredible in the farther supposition 
of necessary agents being thus rewarded and punished ; since 
we ourselves are thus dealt with. 

From the whole, therefore, it must follow, that a necessity 
supposed possible, and reconcilable with the constitution of 
things, does in no sort prove, that the Author of Nature will 
not, nor destroy the proof that he will, finally and upon the 
whole, in his eternal government, render his creatures happy or 
itiiserable, by some means or other, as they behave well or ill 
Or, to express this conclusion in words conformable to the title 
X the chapter, the analogy of nature shows us, that the opiniofi 


* Sermon 8th at the Eolis. 


178 OF THE OPINION OP NECESS.TF, [PART L 

of necessity, considered as practical, is false. And if necessity, 
upon the supposition above-mentioned, doth not destroy the 
proof of natural religion, it evidently makes no alteration in 
the proof of revealed. 

From these things likewise we may learn, in what sense to ^ 
understand that general assertion, that the opinion of necessity 
is essentially destructive of all religion. Firsts In a practical 
sense; that by this notion atheistical men pretend to satisfy 
ind encourage themselves in vice, and justify to others their 
disregard to all religion. And secondly ^ In the strictest sense ; 
that it is a contradiction to the whole constitution of nature, 
and to what we may every moment experience in ourselves, and 
so oterturns every thing. But by no means is this assertion to 
bo understood, as if necessity, supposing it could possibly be 
reconciled with the constitution of things, and with what we 
experience, were not also reconcilable with religion ; for upon 
‘‘his supposition it demonstrably is so. 


[Note. — See page 176.] 

[We must carefully distinguish between the religious and the irre- 
ligious necessitarians. The question between the maintainers of free 
will and the religious necessitarian is this : When I blame [or com- 
mend] myself for an action, is there necessarily involved in this moral 
fudgment, the consciousness that, under all the circumstances pre- 
ceding the act of volition, I might have willed otherwise ? The religious 
necessitarian holds the negative ; the maintainer of free will, the afiBr- 
mative ; and the irreligious fatalists so far agree with the latter. They 
say that the sense or persuasion of liberty is requisite to constitute 
the sense of responsibility for the past, — requisite ns a ground of 
hope or purpose for the future ; that, without it, there would be no 
room for remorse for what we have done, or forethought for what we 
should do. But then they maintain also, that this feeling is delusive ; 
that it maybe demonstrated to be a mistake ; and that, consequently, 
here is a conflict between the rational and the moral principles of our 
nature. Such a scheme is essentially sceptical, representing the im- 
mediate judgments of the mind as contradictory of each other. It 
represents the mind as pronouncing certain volitions, when viewed 
under a speculative aspect, to fall under the law of cause and effect ; 
and yet, pronouncing the same volitions, when viewed under a prac- 
tical aspect, to be exempt from it. 

Now, upon such a scheme, as there is a direct conflict between the 
independent decisions of our own consciousness, it seems clear that 
we have no more right to pronounce the moraZ judgment delusive, than 
the rational. Each would be brought equally into doubt if this state- 
ment were correct. But, even upon this statement the obligations 


179 


CHAP VI.] AS INFLUENCING PRACTICE. 

of morality will remain. I know not, suppose, which judgment Is 
true and which delusive ; but still it is not, and cannot be a matter 
of indifference which of the two I practically follow : because, if I act 
in disregard of the moral consciousness, I am, by the very hypothesis, 
self-condemned. The moral faculty is the practical faculty; and, 
when the question is what is to be done ? — I am in the sphere of 
action, not of speculation. Reason, in her province, may refuse to 
register the decree, but she does not, for she cannot, superinduce a 
contrary practical obligation. 

The doctrine of necessity, in its religious form, takes this expres- 
iion: — that moral acts of the will are determined by their motives 
(meaning by motives all that is the result of temper, organization, 
education, and outward circumstances), as certainly as physical con- 
sequences are by their antecedents ; but that the acts which proceed 
from certain classes of motives are approved or condemned by the 
moral faculty, as being the results of certain motives, without the 
implied intervention of any such consciousness of freedom as the 
maintainers of ths liberty of the will suppose.. — F.] 


180 


THE GOVERNMENT OF GOD, 


[PART 1 


CHAP. VII. 

Of the Government of God, considered as a Schemt or 
stitution, imperfectly comprehended. 

Though it be, as it cannot but be, acknowledged, that the 
analogy of nature gives a strong credibility to the general doc- 
trine of religion, and to the several particular things contained 
in it, considered as so many matters of fact ; and likewise that 
it shows this credibility not to be destroyed by any notions of 
necessity ; yet still, objections may be insisted upon against the 
wisdom, equity, and goodness of the divine government, implied 
in the notion of religion, and against the method by which this 
government is conducted, to which objections analogy can be no 
direct answer.* For the credibility, or the certain truth, of a 
matter of fact, does not immediately prove any thing concerning 
the wisdom or goodness of it; and analogy can do no more, 
immediately or directly, than show such and such things to be 
true or credible, considered only as matters of fact. But still, 
if, upon supposition of a moral constitution of nature and a 
moral government over it, analogy suggests and makes it credi- 
ble, that this government must be a scheme, system or constitu- 
tion of government, as distinguished from a number of single 
unconnected acts of distributive justice and goodness; and like- 


* [It is obvious that the direct way of showing a certain course of 
conduct to be wise or good, is to show the precise relations which ren 
der it so ; the goodness of the ends and the suitability of the means. 

The indirect way is to show that there may be such relations, though 
we do not see them, coupled with the proof that such a course of 
conduct is the conduct of one whom we have good reason, on other 
grounds, to believe wise and good. 

Indeed, there have not been wanting persons who have chosen to 
represent Butler’s argument, throughout this analogy, as tending to 
overthrow the whole proof of God’s attributes of justice, wisdom, and 
goodness, by establishing the matter of fact of our being under a 
goverment no way consistent with such attributes. The object of the 
present chapter is to obviate such a misrepresentation. Coupwri 
throughout, P. ii. chap. viii. — F.] 


CHAP. VII J 


A SCHEME INCOMPREHENSIBLE. 


181 


wise that it must be a scheme, so imperfectly comprehended, 
and of such a sort in other respects, as to afford a direct general 
answer to all objections against the justice and goodness of it; 
then analogy is, remotely, of great service in answering those 
objections, both by suggesting the answer, and showing it to be 
a credible one. 

Now this, upon inquiry, will be found to be the case. For, 
fastj Upon supposition that God exercises a moral government 
over the world, the analogy of his natural government suggests, 
and makes it credible, that his moral government must be a 
scheme quite beyond our comprehension ; and this affords a gen- 
eral answer to all objections against the justice and goodness of 
it. And, secondly^ A more distinct observation of some par- 
ticular things contained in God^s scheme of natural government, 
the like things being supposed, by analogy, to be contained in 
his moral government, will farther show how little weight is to 
be laid upon these objections. 

I. Upon supposition that God exercises a moral government 
over the world, the analogy of his natural government suggests 
and makes it credible, that his moral government must be a 
scheme quite beyond our comprehension : and this affords a 
general answer to all objections against the justice and goodness 
of it. It is most obvious, analogy renders it highly credible, 
that upon supposition of a moral government it must be a 
scheme, — for the world, and the whole natural government of 
it, appears to be so — to be a scheme, system, or constitution, 
whose parts correspond to each other, and to a whole, as really 
as any work of art, or as any particular model of a civil consti- 
tution and government. In this great scheme of the natural 
world, individuals have various peculiar relations to other in- 
dividuals of their own species. And whole species are, wo 
find, variously related to other species, upon this earth. Nor 
do we know how much farther these kinds of relations may 
extend. And as there is not any action, or natural event, 
which we are acquainted with, so single and unconnected as 
not to have a. respect to some other actions and events; so 
possibly each of them, when it has not an immediate, may yet 
have a remote natural relation to other actions and events, 
much beyond the compass of this present world. There seems 
Indeed nothing, from whence we can so much as make a con- 
jecture, whether all creatures, actions, and events, throughout 
the whole of nature, have relations to each other. But, a» it ia 

ir> 


182 


THE GOVERNMENT OP GOD. 


(PART 1 


obvious that all events have future unknown consequences, sc 
if we trace any, as far as we can go, into what is connected with 
it, we shall find, that if such event were not connected with 
somewhat farther in nature unknown to us, somewhat both past 
and present, such event could not possibly have been at all. 
Nor can we give the whole account of anyone thing whatever; 
of all its causes, ends, and necessary adjuncts ; those adjuncts, 
I mean, without which it could not have been. By this most 
astonishing connexion, these reciprocal correspondencies and mu- 
tual relations, every thing which we see in the course of nature, 
is actually brought about. And things, seemingly the most 
insignificant imaginable, are perpetually observed to be neces- 
sary conditions to other things of the greatest importance ; so 
that any one thing whatever may, for aught we know to the 
contrary, be a necessary condition to any other. The natural 
world then, and natural government of it, being such an incom- 
prehensible scheme; so incomprehensible, that a man must 
really in the literal sense know nothing at all, who is not 
sensible of his ignorance in it : this immediately suggests, and 
strongly shows the credibility, that the moral world and govern* 
ment of it may be so too. Indeed, the natural and moral con- 
stitution and government of the world are so connected as to 
make up together but one scheme : and it is highly probable, 
that the first is formed and carried on merely in subserviency to 
the latter, as the vegetable world is for the animal, and organ- 
ized bodies for minds. But the thing intended here is, without 
inquiring how far the administration of the natural world is 
subordinate to that of the moral, only to observe the credibility 
that one should be analogous or similar to the other : that there- 
fore, every act of divine justice and goodness may be supposed 
to look much beyond itself and its immediate object ; may have 
some reference to other parts of God’s moral administration, 
and to a general moral plan ; and that every circumstance of 
this his moral government may be adjusted beforehand with a 
view to the whole of it. Thus for example: the determined 
length of time, and the degrees and ways in which virtue is to 
remain in a state of warfare and discipline, and in which wick- 
edness is permitted to have its progress ; the times appointed 
for the execution of justice; the appointed instruments of it; 
the kinds of rewards and punishments, and the manners of theii 
distribution ; all particular instances of divine justice and good- 
ness, and every circumstance of them, may have such respect# 


CHAP. VII.] A SCHEME INCOMPREHENSIBLE. 183 

to each other, as to raake up altogether a whole, connected and 
related in all its parts; a scheme, or system, which is as pro- 
perly one as the natural world is, and of the like kind. And 
supposing this to be the case, it is most evident that we are not 
competent judges of this scheme, from the small parts of it 
which come within our view in the present life ; and therefore 
no objections against any of these parts can be insisted upon 
by reasonable men. 

This our ignorance, and the consequence here drawn from it, 
jre universally acknowledged upon other occasions ; and though 
scarce denied, yet are universally forgot, when persons come to 
argue against religion. And it is not perhaps easy even for 
the mDst reasonable men, always to bear in mind the degree of 
our ignorance, and make due allowances for it. Upon these 
accounts, it may not be useless to go on a little farther, in order 
to show more distinctly, how just an answer our ignorance is, to 
objections against the scheme of Providence. Suppose then a 
person boldly to assert, that the things complained of, the origin 
and continuance of evil, might easily have been prevented by 
repeated interpositions ;* interpositions so guarded and circum- 
stanced, as would preclude all mischief arising from them ; or, 
if this were impracticable, that a scheme of government is itself 
an imperfection ; since more good might have been produced 
without any scheme, system, or constitution at all, by continued 
single unrelated acts of distributive justice and goodness ; be- 
cause these would have occasioned no irregularities. And far- 
ther than this, it is presumed, the objections will not be carried. 
Yet the answer is obvious ; that were these assertions true, still 
the observations above, concerning our ignorance in the scheme 
of divine government, and the consequence drawn from it, would 
hold in great measure, enough to vindicate religion against all 
objections from the disorders of the present state. Were these 
assertions true, yet the government of the world might be just 
and good notwithstanding : for at the most, they would infer 
nothing more, than that it might have been better. But in- 
deed they are mere arbitrary assertions; no man being suffi- 
ciently acquainted with the possibilities of things, to bring any 
proof of them to the lowest degree of probability. For however 
possible what is asserted may seem, yet many instances may be 
illeged, in things much less out of our reach, of suppositions 
absolutely impossible, and reaucible to the most palpable self 


* See page 185, 186. 


184 THE GOVERNMENl OF GOD; [PART t 

contradicti-: us, which not every one by any means would per* 
ceive to be such, nor perhaps any one at first sight suspect 
From these things it is easy to see distinctly, how our igno« 
ranee, as it is the common, is really a satisfactory answer to all 
objections against the justice and goodness of Providence. If a 
man, contemplating any one providential dispensation, which 
had no relation to any others, should object, that he discerned 
in it a disregard to justice, or a deficiency of goodness, nothing 
would be less an answer to such objection, than our ignorance 
?n other parts of Providence, or in the possibilities of things, no 
way related to what he was contemplating. But when we know 
not but the parts objected against may be relative to other parts 
unknown to us, and when we are unacquainted with what is, in 
the nature of the thing, practicable in the case before us, then 
our ignorance is a satisfactory answer ; because some unknown 
relation, or some unknown impossibility, may render what is 
objected against just and good ; nay, good in the highest prac- 
ticable degree. 

II. And how little weight is to be laid upon such objections 
Will further appear, by a more distinct observation of some par- 
ticular things contained in the natural government of God;, ihe 
like to which may be supposed, from analogy, to be contained 
in his moral government. 

First, As in the scheme of the natural world, no ends appears 
to bo accomplished without means ; so we find that means very 
undejirable often conduce to bring about ends, in such a measure 
desirable, as greatly to overbalance the disagreeableness of the 
means. And in cases where such means are conducive to such 
ends, it is not reason, but experience, which shows us that they 
are thus conducive. Experience also shows many means to be 
conducive and necessary to accomplish ends, which means, before 
experience, we should have thought would have had even a con- 
trary tendency. Now from these observations relating to the 
natural scheme of the world, the moral being supposed analo- 
gous to it, arises a great credibility, that the putting our misery 
in each other’s power to the degree it is, and making men liable 
to vice, to the degree we are ; and in general, that those things 
which are objected against the moral scheme of Providence, 
may be, upon the whole, friendly and assistant to virtue, and 
productive of an overbalance of happiness; i. e. the things ob- 
jected against, may be means by which an overbalance of good 
will, in the end be found produced. And from the game obsep 


CHAP. VII ] A SCHEME INCOMPREHENSIBLE- ‘ 185 

vations, it appears to be no presumption against this, that we do 
not, if indeed we do not, see those means to have any such ten- 
dency, or that they seem to us to have a contrary one. Thus 
those things, which we call irregularities, may not be so at all ; 
Decause they may be means of accomplishing wise and good 
ends more considerable. And it may be added, as above* that 
they may also be the only means by which these wise and good 
ends are capable of being accomplished. 

After these observations it may be proper to add, in order to 
obviate an absurd and wicked conclusion from any of them, that 
though the constitution of our nature, from whence we ari 
capable of vice and misery, may, as it undoubtedly does, contri- 
bute to the perfection and happiness of the world ; and though 
the actual permission of evil may be beneficial to it, (i. e. it 
would have been more mischievous, not that a wicked person 
had himself abstained from his own wickedness, but that any 
one had forcibly prevented it, than that it was permitted) ; yet 
notwithstanding, it might have been much better for the world 
if this very evil had never been done. Nay it is most clearly con- 
ceivable, that the very commission of wickedness may be bene 
ficial to the world, and yet that it would be infinitely more 
beneficial for men to refrain from it. For thus, in the wise and 
good constitution of the natural world, there are disorders which 
bring their own cures ; diseases, which are themselves remedies. 
Many a man would have died, had it not been for the gout or a 
fever ; yet it would be thought madness to assert, that sickness 
is a better or more perfect state than health ; though the like, 
with regard to the moral world, has been asserted. But, 

Secondly, The natural government of the world is carried on 
by general laws. For this there may be wise and good reasons ; 
the wisest and best, for aught we know to the contrary. And 
that there are such reasons, is suggested to our thoughts by the 
analogy of nature; by our being made to experience good ends 
to be accomplished, as indeed all the good which we enjoy is 
accomplished, by this means, that the laws by which the world 
is governed, are general. For we have scarce any kind of 
enjoyments, but what we are, in some way or other, instru- 
mental in procuring ourselves, by acting in a manner which wo 
foiesee likely to procure them : now this foresight could not bo 
at all, were not the government of the world carried on bj 
general laws. And though, for aught we know to the contrary, 
every single case may be at length found to have been pro 
16 * 


186 THE GOVERNMENT OP GOD, [PART 1 

vidc<l for'ev<?n by these; yet to prevent all irregularities, oi 
remedy them as they arise, by the wisest and best general laws, 
may be impossible in the nature of things, as we see it is abso- 
lutely impossible in civil government. But then we are ready 
to think, that the constitution of nature remaining as it is, and 
the course of things being permitted to go on, in other respects^ 
as it does, there might be interpositions to prevent irregulari- 
ties, though they could not have been prevented or remedied 
by any general laws. And there would indeed be reason to 
wish — which, by the way, is very different from a right to 
claim — that all irregularities were prevented or remedied by 
present interpositions, if these interpositions would have no 
other effect than this. But it is plain they would have some 
visible and immediate bad effects; for instance, they would 
encourage idleness and negligence, and they would render 
doubtful the natural rule of life, which is ascertained by this 
very thing, that the course of the world is carried on by general 
laws. And farther, it is certain they would have distant effects, 
and very great ones too, by means of the wonderful connexions 
before-mentioned.* So that we cannot so much as guess what 
would be the whole result of the interpositions desired. It may 
be said, any bad result might be prevented by farther interposi- 
tions, whenever there was occasion for them ; but this again is 
talking quite at random, and in the dark.'}’ Upon the whole 
then, we see wise reasons why the course of the world should 
be carried on by general laws, and good ends accomplished by 
this means ; and for aught we know, there may be the wisest 
reasons for it, and the best ends accomplished by it. We have 
no ground to believe, that all irregularities could be remedied 
as they arise, or could have been precluded by general laws. 
We find that interpositions would produce evil, and prevent 
good ; and for aught we know, they would produce greater evil 
than they would prevent, and prevent greater good than they 
would produce. And if this be the case, then the not interpo- 
sing is so far from being a ground of complaint, that it is an 
instance of goodness. This is intelligible and sufficient; and 
going farther seems beyond the utmost reach of our faculties. 

But it may be said, “ that after all, these supposed impossi- 
bilities and relations are what we are unacquainted with ; and 
wo must judge of religion, aj )f other things, by what we do 
know, 'and look upon the rest as nothing ; or however, that the 


* Pag3 181, &o. 


t Page 183. 184. 


CEAP. VII.] A SCHEME INCOMPREHENSIBLK. 


187 


answers here given to what is objected against religion, ma^ 
equally be made use of to invalidate the proof of it, since their 
stress lies so very much upon our ignorance.'^ But, 

Firsty Though total ignorance, in any matter, does indeed 
equally destroy, or rather preclude, all proof concerning it, and 
objections against it, yet partial ignorance does not. Bor we 
may in any degree be convinced, that a person is of such a cha- 
racter, and consequently will pursue such ends, though we are 
greatly ignorant what is the proper way of acting, in order the 
most effectually to obtain those ends; and in this case, objec- 
tions against his manner of acting, as seemingly not conducive 
to obtain them, might be answered by our ignorance, though 
the proof that such ends were intended, might not at all be in- 
validated by it.'*' Thus the proof of religion is a proof of the 
moral character of God, and consequently, that his government 
is moral, and that every one upon the whole shall receive ao 
cording to his deserts ; a proof that this is the designed end of 
his government. But we are not competent judges what is the 
proper way of acting, in order the most effectually to accomplish 
this end.f Therefore our ignorance is an answer to objections 
against the conduct of Providence, in permitting irregularities, 
as seeming contradictory to this end. Now, sine«. it is so ob- 
vious that our ignorance may be a satisfactory an> wer to objec- 

* [The concluding observations of this chapter are all-important 
for the vindication of Butler’s whole argument. Th y show most 
satisfactorily how our ignorance may invalidate the obje tions against, 
and yet not invalidate the proof of, the thing. The « "^sence of the 
reasoning here lies in the distinction between our knowl *dge of God’s 
will and our knowledge of His ways. We have positive proof of His 
moral character, in virtue of which He wills both the i ighteousness 
and the happiness of His creatures ; and yet may be u ^terly in the 
dark as to the most effectual ways or methods of procedt re by which 
these objects can be most fully accomplished. We ma y know the 
end, and yet not know the best means of bringing it abo \t. A total 
ignorance would place both the objections and the proof a ’ike beyond 
our reach, but a partial ignorance may not. God’s wisd ^m may be 
learned by its vestiges within the limits of a mere handbi <^ath, as in 
the construction of an eye ; yet, after having learned thi:^, we may 
fail in our judgment of the subserviency of things that go o it and far 
from view, whether widely in space or distantly in time. And so 
within the homestead of one’s own conscience may we read lesson 
3 f a righteous Gcd, and yet be wholly unable to pronounc-^i t^n ths 
tecdency or effect of those measures which enter into the pvhey of 
Ri£ universal government. — Chalmers.'^ 

[ Page 88, 80. 


188 


THE GOVERNMENT OF GOD^ [PART I 

tions against u thing, and yet not affect the proof of it; till it 
can be shown, it is frivolous to assert, that our ignorance inva* 
Udates the proof of religion, as it does the objections against it. 

Secondly, Suppose unknown impossibilities, and unknown 
relations, might justly be urged to invalidate the proof of reli- 
^on, as well as to answer objections against it, and that in 
consequence of this the proof of it were doubtful; yet still, let 
the assertion be despised, or let it be ridiculed, it is undeniably 
true, that moral obligations would remain certain, though it 
were not certain what would, upon the whole be the conse* 
quences of observing or violating them. For these obligations 
arise immediately and necessarily from the judgment of our own 
mind, unless perverted, which we cannot violate without being 
self-condemned. And they would be certain too, from consi- 
derations of interest. For, though it were doubtful what will 
be the future consequences of virtue and vice, yet it is however 
credible that they may have those consequences which religion 
teaches us they will ; and this credibility is a certain* obliga- 
tion in point of prudence, to abstain from all wickedness, and 
to live in the conscientious practice of all that is good. But, 

Thirdly, The answers above given to the objections against 
religion, cannot equally be made use of to invalidate the proof 
of it. For, upon the supposition that God exercises a moral 
government over the world, analogy does most strongly lead us 
to conclude, that this moral government must be a scheme, or 
constitution, beyond our comprehension. And a thousand par- 
ticular analogies show us, that parts of such a scheme, from 
their relation to other parts, may conduce to accomplish ends, 
which we should have thought they had no tendency at all to 
accomplish ; nay ends, which, before experience, we should have 
thought such parts were contradictory to, and had a tendency 
to prevent. And therefore all these analogies show, that the 
way of arguing made use of in objecting against religion is de- 
lusive ; because they show it is not at all incredible, that, could 
we comprehend the whole, we should find the permission of the 
dis(.rders objected against, to be consistent with justice and 
goodness, and even to be instances of them. Now this is not 
applicable to the proof of religion, as it is to the objectinna 
against it;*!* and therefore cannot invalidate that proof, aa it 
does these objections. 

* Page 84, and Part II. chap. vi. 

f Sermons kit the Rolls, p. 312, 2d Edit 


CIlAr. VI/ 1 A SCHEME lNC03IPREllENSiBLE. 


189 


Lastly^ From the observations now made, it is easy to see, 
that the answers above given to the objections against Provi- 
dence, though, in a general way of speaking, they may be said 
to be taken from our ignorance, yet are by no means taken 
merely from that, but from somewhat which analogy shows us 
concerning it. For analogy shows us positively, that our igno- 
rance in the possibilities of things, and the various relations in 
nature, renders us incompetent judges, and leads us to false 
inclusions, in cases similar to this, in which we pretend to 
judge and to object. So that the things above insisted upon, 
are not mere suppositions of unknown impossibilities and rela 
tions ; but they are suggested to our thoughts, and even forced 
upon the observation of serious men, and rendered credible too, 
by the analogy of nature. And therefore, to take these things 
into the account, is to judge by experience, and what wo de 
know; and it is not judging so, to take no notice of them 


CONCLUSION. 


[PAET I 


m 


CONCLUSION. 

Thk observations cf the last chapter lead us to consider thia 
little scene of human life, in which we are so busily engaged, 
as having a reference, of some sort or other, to a much larger 
plan of things. Whether we are any way related to the more 
distant parts of the boundless universe into which we are brought, 
is altogether uncertain. But it is evident, that the course of 
things, which comes within our view, is connected with some- 
what past, present, and future, beyond it.* So that we are 
placed, as one may speak, in the middle of a scheme, not a 
fixed, but a progressive one, every way incomprehensible; incom- 
prehensible in a manner, equally with respect to what has been, 
what now is, and what shall be hereafter. And this scheme 
cannot but contain in it somewhat as wonderful, and as much 
beyond our thought and conception,"!* as any thing in that of 
religion. For, will any man in his senses say, th^at it is less 
difficult to conceive how the world came to be, and to continue 
as it is, without, than with, an intelligent Author and Governor 
of it ? or, admitting an intelligent Governor of it, that there is 
some other rule of government more natm*al, and of easier con- 
ception, than that which we call moral ? Indeed, without an 
intelligent Author and Governor of Nature, no account at all 
can be given, how this universe, or the part of it particularly in 
which we are concerned, came to be, and the course of it to be 
carried on as it is ; nor any of its general end and design, with- 
out a moral Governor of it. That there is an intelligent Author 
of Nature, and natural Governor of the world, is a principle 
gone upon in the foregoing treatise, as proved, and generally 
known and confessed to be proved. And the very notion of an 
intelligent Author of Nature, proved by particular final causes, 
implies a will and a character.| Now as our whole nature, the 
nature which he has given us, leads us to conclude his will and 
character to be moral, just, and good ; so we can scarce in ima- 
gination conceive what it can be otherwise. However, in conse- 
quence of this his will and character, whatever it be, he formed 


Pages 181, 182 f See Part ii. Chap. 2. f Page 171. 


PART I.j CONCLUSION. 19 J 

the universe as it is, and carries on the course of it as he does, 
rather than in any other manner; and has assigned to us, and 
to all living creatures, a part and a lot in it. Irrational crea- 
tures act this their part, and enjoy and undergo the pleasures 
and the pains allotted them, without any reflection. But one 
would think it impossible, that creatures endued with reason 
could avoid reflecting sometimes upon all this ; reflecting, if not 
from whence we came, yet at least, whither we are going, and 
what the mysterious scheme in the midst of which we find our- 
selves, will at length come out and produce ; a scheme in whicft 
it is certain we are highly interested, and in which we may be 
intereated even beyond conception. For many things prove it 
palpably absurd to conclude, that we shall cease to be at death. 
Particular analogies do most sensibly show us, that there is 
nothing to be thought strange in our being to exist in another 
state of life. And that we are now living beings, affords a 
strong probability that we shall continue so ; unless there be 
some positive ground, and there is none from reason or analogy, 
to think death will destroy us. Were a persuasion of this 
kind ever so well grounded, there would surely be little reason 
.to take pleasure in it. But indeed, it can have no other ground 
than some such imagination, as that of our gross bodies being 
ourselves; which is contrary to experience. Experience too, 
most clearly shows us the folly of concluding from the body 
and the living agent affecting each other mutually, that the 
dissolution of the former is the destruction of the latter. And 
there are remarkable instances of their not affecting each other, 
which lead us to a contrary conclusion. The supposition then, 
which in all reason we are to go upon, is, that our living nature 
will continue after death. And it is infinitely unreasonable, to 
form an institution of life, or to act upon any other supposition. 
Now all expectation of immortality, whether more or less cer 
tain, opens an unbounded prospect te our hopes and our foars 
since we see the constitution of nature is such as to admit of 
misery, as well as to be productive of happiness, and experience 
ourselves to partake of both in some degree ; and since we can 
not but know what higher degrees of both we are capable of 
And there is no presumption against believing farther, that ouj 
funire interest depends upon our present behaviour; for we see 
our present interest doth ; and that the happiness and misery, 
which are naturally annexed to our actions, very frequently do 
not follow till long after the actions are done to which they are 


CONCLUSION. 


U)2 


[PART I 


rospectively annexed. So that were speculation to leave ua 
uncertain, whether it were likely that the Author of Nature, in 
giving happiness and misery to his creatures, hath regard tc 
their actions or not; yet, since we find by experience that he 
hath such regard, the whole sense of things which he has given 
us, plainly leads us at once, and without any elaborate inquiries, 
to think that it may, indeed must, be to good actions chie% that 
he hath annexed happiness, and to bad actions misery ; or that 
he will, upon the whole, reward those who do well, and punish 
those who do evil. To confirm this from the constitution of the 
world, it has been observed, that some sort of moral government 
is necessarily implied in that natural government of God which 
we experience ourselves under ; that good- and bad actions, at 
present, are naturally rewarded and punished, not only as bene- 
ficial and mischievous to society, but also as virtuous and vicious; 
and that there is, in the very nature of the thing, a tendency 
to their being rewarded and punished in a much higher degree 
than they are. at present. And though this higher degree of 
distributive justice, which nature thus points out and leads 
towards, is prevented for a time from taking place, it is by obsta- 
cles which the state of this world unhappily throws in its way,, 
and which therefore are in their nature temporary. Now as 
these things, in the natural conduct of Providence, are observa- 
ble on the side of virtue, so there is nothing to be set against 
them on the side of vice. A moral scheme of government then 
is visibly established, and in some degree carried into execution ; 
and this, together with the essential tendencies of virtue and 
vice duly considered, naturally raise in us an apprehension, that 
it will be carried on farther towards perfection in a future state, 
and that every one shall there receive according to his deserts. 
And if this be so, then our future and general interest, under 
the moral government of God, is appointed to depend upon our 
behaviour, notwithstanding the difficulty which this may occasion 
of securing it, and the danger of losing it; just in the same 
manner as our temporal interest, under his natural government, 
is appointed to depend upon our behaviour, notwithstanding the 
like difficulty and danger. For, from our original constitution, 
and that of the world which we inhabit, we are naturally trusted 
with ourselves, with our own conduct, and our own interest. 
And from the same constitution of nature, especially joined with 
th.at course of things which is owing to men, we have tempta- 
lioiis to be unfaithful in this trust, to forfeit this interest, to 


/Aar I.] 


CONCLUSION. 


190 


neglect it, and run ourselves into misery and ruin. From tbcfw 
temptations arise the difficulties of behaving so as to secure our 
temporal interest, and the hazard of behaving so as to miscarry 
in it. There is therefore nothing incredible in supposing, there 
may be the like difficulty and hazard with regard to that chief 
and final good which religion lays before us. Indeed the whole 
account, how it came to pass that we were placed in such a con- 
dition as this, must be beyond our comprehension. But it is in 
part accounted for by what religion teaches us, that the character 
of virtue and piety must be a necessary qualification for a future 
state of security and happiness, under the moral government 
of God ; in like manner, as some certain qualifications or other 
are necessary for every particular condition of life, under his 
natural government ; and that the present state was intended to 
be a school of discipline, for improving in ourselves that charac- 
ter. Now this intention of nature is rendered highly credible 
by observing j that we are plainly made for improvement of all 
kinds ; that it is a general appointment of Providence, that we 
cultivate practical principles, and form within ourselves habits 
of action, in order to become fit for what we were wholly unfit 
for before ; that in particular, childhood and youth is naturally 
appointed to be a state of discipline for mature age : and that 
the present world is peculiarly fitted for a state of moral dis- 
cipline. And, whereas objections are urged against the whole 
notion of moral government and a probation-state, from the 
opinion of necessity, it has been shown, that God has given us 
the evidence, as it were of experience, that all objections against 
religion on this head are vain and delusive. He has also, in 
his natural government, suggested an answer to all our short- 
sighted objections against the equity and goodness of his moral 
government, and in general he has exemplified to us the kttei 
by the former. 

These things, which, it is to be remembered, are matteis of 
fact, ought in all common sense, to awaken mankind, to induce 
them to consider in earnest their condition, and what they have 
to do. It is absurd — absurd to the degree of being ridiculous, 
if the subject were not of so serious a kind, for men to think 
themselves secure in a vicious life, or even in that immoral 
thoughtlessness which far the greatest part of them arc fallen 
into. And the credibility of religion, arising from experience 
%nd facts here considered, is fully sufficient, in reason, to engage 
them to live in the general practice of all virtue and piety? 
17 


194 CONCLUSION. [PART 1 

under the serious apprehension, though it should be mixed with 
some doubt,* of a righteous administration established in nature, 
and a future judgment in consequence of it; especially wheu 
we consider, how very questionable it is whether any thing at 
all can be gained by vice ;f how unquestionably little, as well 
as precarious, the pleasures and profits of it are at the best; and 
how soon they must be parted with at the longest. For, in the 
deliberations of reason, concerning what we are to pursue and 
what to avoid, as temptations to any thing from mere passion 
are supposed out of the case ; so inducements to vice, from cool 
expectations of pleasure and interest, so small and uncertain 
and sho/t, are really so insignificant, as in the view of reason, to 
be almost nothing in themselves, and in comparison with the 
importance of religion, they quite disappear and are Ivst. Mere 
passion indeed may be alleged, though not as a reason, yet as 
an excuse for a vicious course of life. And how sony an excuse 
it is will be manifest by observing, that we are placed in a condi- 
tion in which we are unavoidably inured to govern our passions, 
by being necessitated to govern them; and tc> lay ourselves 
under the same kind of restraints, and as great ones too, from 
temporal regards, as virtue and piety, in the ordinary course of 
things, require. The plea of ungovernable paTssion then, on the 
side of vice, is the poorest of all things ; for it is no reason, and 
but a poor excuse. But the proper motives to religion, are the 
proper proofs of it, from our moral nature, from the presages of 
conscience, and our natural apprehension of God, under the 
character of a righteous Governor and Judge ; a nature, and 
conscience, and apprehension given us by him ; and from the 
confirmation of the dictates of reason, by life and immortality 
brought to light hy the gospel ; and the wrath of God revealea 
from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of 
men. 


♦Part II. Chap. 6. 


flageim 


PART n. 


OF REVEALED RELIGION. 


( 196 ) 





THE 


ANALOGY OF EELIGION, &c 


PAET II. 

OF REVEALED RELIGION. 


CHAP. 1. 

Of the Importance of Christianity. 

Some persons, upon pretence of the sufficiency of the light 
of nature,* avowedly reject all revelation, as, in its very notion, 
incredible, and what must be fictitious. And indeed it is cer 
tain, no revelation would have been given, had the light of 
nature been sufficient in such a sense, as to render one not 
wanting and useless. But no man in seriousness and simplicit 3 / 
of mind, can possibly think it so, who considers the state of 
religion in the heathen world before revelation, and its present 
state in those places which have borrowed no light from it* 
particularly the doubtfulness of some of the greatest men con 
cerning things of the utmost importance, as well as the natura^ 
inattention and ignorance of mankind in general. It is impos- 
sible to say who would have been able to have reasoned out that 
whole system, which we call natural religion, in its genuine 
simplicity, clear of superstition; but there is certainly no ground 
to affirm that the generality could : if they could, there is no 
Bcrt of probability that they would. Admitting there were, 
they would highly want a standing admonition, to remind them 
of it, and inculcate it upon them. And farther still, were they 

♦[This is the main argument of Tindal’s famous book, “Chris- 
tianity as old as the Creation, or the Gospel a Republication of th« 
Law of Nature,” first published iu 4to., Loudon, 1730. — F.] 

17 * ( 197 ) 


198 


OP THE IMPORTANCE 


[PART n 

OS much disposed to attend to religion as the better sort of men 
are, yet even upon this supposition, there would be various occa- 
sions for supernatural instruction and assistance, and the greatest 
advantages might be afforded by them. So that to say, revela- 
tion is a thing superfluous, what there is no need of, and what 
can be of no service, is, I think, to talk quite wildly and at 
random.* Nor would it be more extravagant to affirm, that 
mankind is so entirely at ease in the present state, and life so 
oompletely happy, that it is a contradiction to suppose our con- 
dition capable of being in any respect better. 

There are other persons, not to be ranked with these, who 
«8em to be getting into a way of neglecting, and as it were, 
overlooking revelation, as of small importance, provided natural 
religion be kept to. With little regard, either to the evidence 
of the former, or to the objections against it, and even upon 
supposition of its truth, ^Hhe only design of it,^’ say they, 
must be to establish a belief of the moral system of nature, 
and to enforce the practice of natural piety and virtue. The 


* [It may be doubted whether Christian apologists are called upon 
to demonstrate elaborately the necessity of Revelation, prior to the 
consideration of its truth, as matter of fact. Faley disposes of this 
whole question in a single sentence, by simply saying, “ I deem it 
unnecessary to prove, that mankind stood in need of a revelation 
because I have met with no serious person, who thinks that, even 
under the Christian Revelation, we have too much light, or any degree 
of assurance which is superfluous,” Dr. Chalmers, on this topic 
remarks, “ Possessed as we are, of such competent proofs on the 
credibility of this said revelation, are we to suspend the determination 
of it, till the previous question of its necessity has been settled and 
set by ? Are we to forego the consideration of the evidences which 
lie patent before us on the field of observation till we take up a mat- 
ter, not so much, let it be noticed, of palpable fact as of recondite 
principle ? The necessity of revelation involves in it topics that stand 
related both to God and to eternity — to the hidden counsels of the 
One, to the fathomless unknown, and by us, undiscoverable, of the 
other. The truth of revelation depends on credentials which lie on 
an open platform, or certain tangible things within the circle of our 
perceptions, which have been addressed to human eyes, which have 
been heard by human ears. It is not sound dialectics to suspend the 
second of these topics on the first of them.” 

It is usual to argue the necessity of revelation from the state of 
religion and morals in the ancient heathen world. The reader who 
is interested in this line of investigation, would do well to examine 
Thcluck’s masterly essay, on the “Nature and Moral Infinencc at 
fleathenism ” in Clark’s Biblical Cabinet, No. 28.] 


OP CHRISTIANITY. 


CHAP 1.] 


m 


belief and practroe of these things were, perhaps, much pro- 
moted by the first publication of Christianity j but whether they 
are believed and practised, upon the evidence and motives of 
nature or of revelation, is no great matter/'* This way of 
considering revelation, though it is not the same with the for- 
mer, yet borders nearly upon it, and very much, at length, runs 
up into it, and requires to be particularly considered, with regard 
to the persons who seem to be getting into this way. The con- 
sideration of it will likewise farther show the extravagance of 
the former opinion, and the truth of the observations in answer 
to it, just mentioned. And an inquiry into the Importance of 
Christianity, cannot be an improper introduction to a treatise 
concerning the credibility of it. 

Now if God has given a revelation to mankind, and com- 
manded those things which are commanded in Christianity, it is 
evident, at first sight, that it cannot in anywise be an indifferent 
matter, whether we obey or disobey those commands ; unless we 
are certainly assured, that we know all the reasons for them, 
and that all those reasons are now ceased, with regard to mankind 
in general, or to ourselves in particular. And it is absolutely 
impossible we can be assured of this ; for our ignorance of these 
reasons proves nothing in the case, since the whole analogy of 
nature shows, what is indeed in itself evident, that there may 
00 infinite reasons for things, with which we are not acquainted. 

But the importance of Christianity will more distinctly appear, 
by considering it more distinctly : first, as a republication, and 
external institution, of natural or essential religion, adapted to 
the present circumstances of mankind, and intended to promote 
natural piety and virtue; and secondly, as containing an account 
of a dispensation of things, not discoverable by reason, in con- 
sequence of which several distinct precepts are enjoined us. 
For though natural religion is the foundation and principal part 
of Christianity, it is not in any sense the whole of it. 

I. Christianity is a republication of natural religion. It in 


♦ Invenis multos propterea nolli fieri Christianos, quia quasi 

gufficiunt sibi de bona vita sua. Bene vivere opus est, ait. Quid 
mibi precepturus est Christus ? Ut bene vivam ? Jam bene vivo. 
Quid milii necessarius est Christus? Nullum liomicidium, nullum 
furtum, nullam rapinam facio, res alienas non concupisco, nullo adul- 
terio oontaminoi . Nam inveniatur in vita mea aliquid auod repro- 
hendatur, et qui repreheudetit faciat Christian uni. — in Psal 

xxxi 


£00 


OF THE IMPORTANCE 


[PART n. 

structs mankind in the moral system of the world : that it is 
the work of an infinitely perfect Being, and under his govern- 
ment ; that virtue is his law ; and that he will finally judge 
mankind in righteousness, and render to all according to then- 
works, in a future state. And which is very material, it teaches 
natural religion in its genuine simplicity, free from those super 
stitions with which it was totally corrupted, and under which it 
was in a manner lost. 

Revelation is farther an authoritative publication of natural 
eligion, and so affords the evidence of testimony for the truth 
of it. Indeed the miracles and prophecies recorded in Scrip- 
ture, were intended to prove a particular dispensation of Provi- 
dence-- the redemption of the world by the Messiah; but this 
does not hinder but that they may also prove God’s general 
providence over the world, as our moral Governor and Judge. 
And they evidently do prove it ; because this character of the 
Author of Nature is necessarily connected with, and implied in 
that particular revealed dispensation of things: it is likewise 
continually taught expressly, and insisted upon by those persons 
who''wrought the miracles and delivered the prophecies. So 
that indeed, natural religion seems as much proved by the 
Scripture revelation, as it would have been, had the design of 
revelation been l t)thing else than to prove it. 

But it may possibly be disputed, how far miracles can prove 
natural religion ; and notable objections may be urged against 
this proof of it, considered as a matter of speculation : but con- 
sidered as a practical thing, there can be none. For suppose a 
person to teach natural religion to a nation, who had lived in 
total ignorance or forgetfulness of it, and to declare he was 
commissioned by God so to do; suppose him, in proof of his 
commission, to foretell things future, which no human foresight 
could have guessed at; to divide the sea with a word; feed 
great multitudes with bread from heaven ; cure all manner of 
diseases ; and raise the dead, even himself, to life ; would not 
this give additional credibility to his teaching, a credibility 
beyond what that of a common man would have, and be ar 
authoritative publication of the law of nature, i. e. a new proof 
of it ? It would be a practical one, of the strongest kind, per- 
haps, which human creatures are capable of having given them 
The law of Moses then, and the gospel of Christ, are authorita- 
tive publications of the religion of nature : they afford a proof 
of God’s general providence, as moral Governor of the world; 


OF CHRISTIANITY. 


201 


CHAP I.J 

as well as of his particular dispensations of providence towards 
sinful creatures, revealed in the law and the gospel. As thej 
are the only evidence of the latter, so they are an additional 
evidence of the former. 

To show this farther, let us suppose a man of the greatest 
and most improved capacity, who had never heard of revelation, 
convinced upon the whole, notwithstanding the disorders of the 
world, that it was under the direction and moral government of 
sn infinitely perfect Being, but ready to question, whether ho 
were not got beyond the reach of his faculties ; suppose him 
brought, by this suspicion, into great danger of being carried 
away by the universal bad example of almost every one around 
him, who appeared to have no sense, no practical sense at least, 
of these things ; and this perhaps would be as advantageous a 
situation, with regard to religion, as nature alone ever placed 
any man in. What a confirmation now must it be to such a 
person, all at once to find, that this moral system of things was 
revealed to mankind, in the name of that infinite Being, whom 
he had, from principles of reason, believed in ,* and that the 
publishers of the revelation proved their commission from him 
by making it appear, that he had intrusted them with a power 
of suspending and changing the general laws of nature. 

Nor must it, by any means, be omitted, for it is a thing of 
the utmost importance, that life and immortality are eminently 
brought to light by the gospel.* The great doctrines of a future 
state, the danger of a course of wickedness, and the efficacy of 
repentance, are not only confirmed in the gospel, but are taught, 
especially the last is, with a degree of light, to which that of 
nature is but darkness. 

Farther: As Christianity served these ends and purposes, 
when it was first published, by the miraculous publication 
itself ; so it was intended to serve the same purposes in future 
ages, by means of the settlement of a visible church; of a 
Bociety, distinguished from common ones, and from the rest of 


* [For even though natural religion might teach some efficacy to be 
in repentance, it could not certainly teach the efficacy of it in the 
Christian sense, i. e. its efficacy wholly to cancel the punishment of 
sin, and restore us absolutely to God’s favour. And though natura- 
religion might show us much danger in wickedness, it could not show 
IS, certainly, the great danger resulting from our probation being 
terminated for ever by death, and the ev-v^Hn^ punishment trhicfc 
will thjtn ensue. --F.] 


•'0*J OP THE IMPORTAUCE LPAKT n 

the world, by peculiar religious institutions ; by an instituted 
method of instruction, and an instituted form of externiu 
religion. Miraculous powers were given to the first preacherf 
of Christianity, in order to their introducing it into the world 
a visible church was established, in order to continue it, and 
carry it on successively throughout all ages. Had Moses and 
the Prophets, Christ and his Apostles, only taught, and by 
miracles proved, religion to their contemporaries, the benefit 
of their instructions would have reached but to a small part of 
mankind. Christianity must have been, in a great degree, sunk 
And forgot in a very few ages. To prevent this, appears to 
have been one reason why a visible church was instituted ; to 
be like a city upon a hill, a standing memorial to the world, of 
the duty which we owe our Maker ; to call men continually, 
both by example and instruction, to attend to it, and by the 
form of religion ever before their eyes, remind them of the 
reality ; to be the repository of the oracles of God ; to hold up 
the light of revelation in aid to that of nature, and propagate 
it throughout all generations to the end of the world — the light 
of revelation, considered here in no other view, than as designed 
to enforce natural religion. And in proportion as Christianity 
is professed and taught in the world, religion, natural or 
essential religion, is thus distinctly and advantageously laid 
before mankind, and brought again and again to their thoughts 
as a matter of infinite importance. A visible church has also 
a farther tendency to promote natural religion, as being an insti- 
tuted method of education, originally intended to be of more 
peculiar advantage to those who would conform to it. For one 
end of the institution was, that by admonition and reproof, as 
well as instruction ; by a general regular discipline, and public 
exercises of religion, the body of Christy as the Scripture 
speaks, should be edified ; i. e. trained up in piety and virtue, 
for a higher and better state. This settlement then, appearing 
thus beneficial ) tending, in the nature of the thing, to answer, 
and in some degree actually answering, those ends ; it is to be 
remembered, that the very notion of it implies positive institu- 
tions : for the visibility of the church consists in them. Take 
away every thing of this kind, and you lose the very notion 
itself. So that, if the things now mentioned are advantages, 
ihe reason and importance of positive institutions in general is 
moat obvious ; since, without them, these advantages could not 
be secured to the world. And it is mere idle wantonness, to 


CHAP. I.j OP CHRISTIANITY. 203 

insist upon knowing the reasons why such particular ones were 
ised upon, rather than others. 

The benefit arising from this supernatural assistance, which 
Christianity affords to natural religion, is what some persons are 
very slow in apprehending : and yet it is a thing distinct in 
itself, and a very plain obvious one. For will any in good 
earnest really say, that the bulk of mankind in the heathen 
world were in as advantageous a situation, with regard to natural 
religion, as they are now amongst us : that it A^as laid before 
them, and enforced upon them, in a manner a» distinct, and as 
much tending to influence their practice ? 

The objections against all this, from the perversion of 
Christianity, and from the supposition of its having had but 
little good influence, however innocently they may be proposed, 
vet cannot be insisted upon as conclusive, upon any principles 
but such as lead to downright atheism ; because the manifesta- 
tion of the law of nature by reason, which, upon all principles 
of theism, must have been from God, has been perverted and 
rendered ineffectual in the same manner. It may indeed, I 
think, truly be said, that the good effects of Christianity have 
not been small ; nor its supposed ill effects, any effects at all of 
it, properly speaking. Perhaps too the things themselves done 
have been aggravated; and if not, Christianity hath been often 
only a pretence ; and the same evils in the main would have 
been done upon some other pretence. However, great and 
shocking as the corruptions and abuses of it have really been, 
they cannot be insisted upon as arguments against it, upon prin- 
ciples of theism. For one cannot proceed one step in reasoning 
upon natural religion, any more than upon Christianity, without 
laying it down as a first principle, that the dispensations of 
Providence are not to be judged of by their perversions, but by 
their genuine tendencies ; not by what they do actually seem to 
effect, but by what they would effect if mankind did their part : 
that part which is justly put and left upon them. It is alto- 
gether as much the language of one, as of the other : He 
that is unjust, let him be unjust still , and he that is holy, lei 
him be holy still.’* * The light of reason does not, any more 
than that of revelation, force men to submit to its authority : 
both admonish them of what they ought to do and avoid, 
together with the consequences of each ; and after this leave 


* Rev. xxii. 11 


OF THE IMPORTANCE 


•Z04 


[part n 


tihein at fiiil liberty to act just as they please, till the app Dinted 
time of judgment. Every moment’s experience shows that this 
is God’s general rule of government. 

To return then; Christianity being a promulgation of tho 
law of nature; being moreover an authoritative promulgation 
of it, with new light, and other circumstances of peculiar advan- 
tage, adapted to the wants of mankind ; these things fully show 
ite importance. And it is to be observed farther, that as the 
nature of the case requires, so all Christians are commanded to 
contribute, by their profession of Christianity, to preserve it in 
Ihe world, and render \t such a promulgation and enforcement 
of religion. For it is the very scheme of the gospel, that each 
Christian should, in his degree, contribute towards continuing 
and carrying it on ; all by uniting in the public profession, and 
external practice of Christianity; some by instructing, by 
having the oversight, and taking care of this religious com- 
munity — the church of God. Now this farther shows the im- 
portance of Christianity, and, which is what I chiefly intend, 
its importance in a practical sense, or the high obligations wo 
are under, to take it into our most serious consideration ; and 
the danger there must necessarily be, not only in treating it 
despitefully, which I am not now speaking of, but in disre- 
garding and neglecting it. For this is neglecting to do what is 
expressly enjoined us, for continuing those benefits to the world, 
and transmitting them down to future times. And all this 
holds, even though the only thing to be considered in Chris- 
tianity were, its subserviency to natural religion. But, 

II. Christianity is to be considered in a further view, as con- 
taining an account of a dispensation of things not at all dis- 
coverable by reason, in consequence of which several distinct 
precepts are enjoined us. Christianity is not only an external 
institution of natural religion, and a new promulgation of God’s 
general providence, as righteous Governor and Judge of the 
world ; but it contains also a revelation of a particular dispen- 
sation of providence, carrying on b) his Son and Spirit, for the 
recovery and salvation of mankind, who are represented in Scrip- 
ture, to be in a state of ruin. And in consequence of thi<s 
revelation being made, we are commanded to he baptized, not 
only in the name of the Father, but also of the Son, and ofthi 
Holy Ghost ; and other obligations of duty, unknown before, to 
the Son and the Holy Ghost, are revealed. Now the importance 
of these duties may be judged cf, by ibserving that they arise 


CHAP. I.l 


OP CHRISTIANITY. 


not from positive command merely, but also from the offices 
which appear, from Scripture, to belong to those divine persona 
in the gospel dispensation, or from the relations which wo are 
there informed they stand in to us. By reason is revealed the 
relation which Grod the Father stands in to us. Hence arises 
th j obligation of duty which we are under to him. In Scripture 
wo revealed the relations which the Son and Holy Spirit stand 
in to us. Hence arise the obligations of duty which we are 
ttlidei to them. The truth of the case, as one may speak, in 
sach of these three respects, being admitted, that God is the 
Q-overnor of the world, upon the evidence of reason ; that Christ 
is the Mediator between God and man ; and the Holy Ghost 
our Guide and Sanctifier, upon the evidence of revelation : the 
truth of the case, I say, in each of these respects being admitted, 
it is no more a question, why it should be commanded that we 
be baptized in the name of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, 
than that we be baptized in the name of the Father. This 
matter seems to require to be more fully stated.* 

Let it be remembered then, that religion comes under the 
twofold consideration of internal and external ; for the latter is 
as real a part of religion, of true religion, as the former. Now 
when religion is considered under the first notion, as an inward 
principle, to be exerted in such and such inward acts of the 
mind and heart, the essence of natural religion may be said to 
consist in religious regards to God the Father Almig/tly ; and 
the essence of revealed religion as distinguished from natural, 
to consist in religious regards to the Son and to the Holy Ghost. 
And the obligation we are under, of paying these religious 
regards to each of these Divine persons respectively, arises from 
the respective relations which they each stand in to us. How 
these relations are made known, whether by reason or revelation, 
makes no alteration in the case ; because the duties arise out of 
the relations themselves, not out of the manner in which we 
are informed of them. The Son and Spirit have each his propel 
office in that great dispensation of Providence, the redemption 
of the world : the one our Mediator, the other our Sanctifier. 
Dc-es not then the duty of religious regards to both these divine 
persons, as immediately arise to the view of reason, out of the 
I ’^ry nature of these offices and relations, as the inward good* 


* dee ‘ The Nature, Obligation, and Efficacy, of the Christian Ss; 
framenta, &c. and CcUlber of Revealed Religion, as there quoted, 

18 


206 


OF THE IMPORTANCE 


[PART n 


will and kind intention, which we owe to our fellow-creatures, 
arises out of the common relations between us and them ? But 
it will be asked, What are the inward religious regards, ap 
pearing thus obviously due to the Son and Holy Spirit, as arising, 
not merely from command in Scripture, but from the very nature 
of the revealed relations which they stand in to us I answer, 
tha re ligious regards of reverence, honour, love, trust, gratitude, 
foiic, hope. In what external manner this inward worship is to 
be expressed, is a matter of pure revealed command ; as perhaps 
the external manner in which God the Father is to be wor- 
shipped, may be more so than we are ready to think j but the 
worship, the internal worship itself, to the Son and Holy Ghost, 
is no farther matter of pure revealed command, than as the 
relations they stand in to us, are matter of pure revelation ; for 
she relations being known, the obligations to such internal wor- 
ship are obligations of reason, arising out of those relations 
themselves. In short, the history of the gospel as immediately 
thows us the reason of these obligations, as it shows us the 
meaning of the words. Son and Holy Ghost. 

If this account of the Christian religion be just, those persons 
who can speak lightly of it, as of little consequence, provided 
natural religion be kept to, plainly forget, that Christianity, 
even what is peculiarly so called, as distinguished from natural 
religion, has yet somewhat very important, even of a moral 
nature. For the office of our Lord being made known, and the 
relation he stands in to us, the obligation of religious regards 
to him is plainly moral, as much as charity to mankind is ; since 
this obligation arises, before external command, immediately out 
of that his office and relation itself. Those persons appear to 
forget, that revelation is to be considered as informing us of 
somewhat new in the state of mankind, and in the government 
of the world ; as acquainting us with some relations we stand 
in, which could not otherwise have been known. And these 
relations being real, (though before revelation we could be under 
no obligations from them, yet upon their being revealed,) there 
is no reason to think, but that neglect of behaving suitably to 
them, will be attended with the same kind of consequences under 
God^s government, as neglecting to behave suitably to any other 
relations made known to us by reason. And ignorance, whether 
unavoidable or voluntary, so far as we can possibly see, will 
just as much, and just as little, excuse in one case as in the 
the other : the ignorance being supposed equally unavoidable, 
or eqaally voluntary, in both cases. 


OP CHRISTIANITY. 


‘207 


OHAP I.] 

If therefore Christ be indeed the Mediator between God and 
man ; i. e. if Christianity be true : if he be indeed our Lord, 
our Saviour, and our God, no one can say what may follow, not 
only the obstinate, but the careless disregard to him in those 
high relations. Nay, no one can say what may follow such dis- 
regard, even in the way of natural consequence.* For as the 
natural consequences of vice in this life, are doubtless to bo 
considered as judicial punishments inflicted by God ; so likewise, 
for aught we know, the judicial punishments of the future life 
may be, in a like way, or a like sense, the natural consequence 
of vice ;■}* of men^s violating or disregarding the relations which 
God has placed them in here, and made known to them. 

Again : If mankind are corrupted and depraved in their 
moral character, and so are unfit for that state which Christ is 
gone to prepare for his disciples ; and if the assistance of God’s 
Spirit be necessary to renew their nature, in the degree requisite 
to their being qualified for that state ; all which is implied in 
the express, though figurative, declaration. Except a man he 
born of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God : 
supposing this, is it possible any serious person can think it a 
slight matter, whether or not he makes use of the means 
expressly commanded by God, for obtaining this divine assist- 
ance? especially since the whole analogy of nature shows, that 
we are not to expect any benefits, without making use of the 
appointed means for obtaining or enjoying them. Now reason 
shows us nothing of the particular immediate means of obtaining 
either temporal or spiritual benefits. This therefore we must 
learn, either from experience or revelation. And experience, 
the present case does not admit of. 

The conclusion from all this evidently is, that Christianity 
being supposed either true or credible, it is unspeakable irre- 
verence, and really the most presumptuous rashness, to treat it 
as a light matter. It can never justly be esteemed of little con- 
sequence, till it be positively supposed false. Nor do I know 
» higher and more important obligation which we are under, 
.han that of examining most seriously into the evidence of it, 
supposing its credibility ; and of embracing it, upon supposition 
of its truth. 

The two following deductions may be proper to be addcxl, in 
order to illustrate the foregoing observations, and tc prevent 
their being mistaken. 


Pages 104. 106. &c 


f Chap. 6- 


208 OP THE IMPORTANCE [PART J1 

First, Hence we may clearly see, where lies the distinction 
between what is positive and what is moral in religion. Moral 
precepts are precepts, the reasons of which we see; positive 
precepts are precepts, the reasons of which we do not sec.^ 
Moral duties arise out of the nature of the case itself, prior to 
external command. Positive duties do not arise out of tho 
nature of the case, but from external command; nor would 
they be duties at all, were it not for such command received 
from him, whose creatures and subjects we are. But the 
manner in which the nature of the case, or the fact of the rela- 
tion, is made known, this doth not denominate any duty, either 
positive or moral. That we be baptized in the name of the Fa- 
ther, is as much a positive duty as that we be baptized in the 
name of the Son ; because both arise equally from revealed 
command ; though the relation which we stand in to God the 
Father, is made known to us by reason ; the relation we stand 
in to Christ, by revelation only. On the other hand, the dis- 
pensation of the gospel admitted, gratitude as immediately be- 
comes due to Christ, from his being the voluntary minister of 
this dispensation, as it is due to God the Father, from his being 
the fountain of all good ; though the first is made known to us 
by revelation only, the second by reason. Hence also we may 
see, and, for distinctness sake, it may be worth mentioning, 
that positive institutions come under a twofold consideration : 
They are either institutions founded on natural religion, as bap- 
tism in the name of the Father; though this has also a par- 
ticular reference to the gospel dispensation, for it is in the name 
of God, as the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ; or they are 


* This is the distinction between moral and positive precepts, con 
sidered respectively as such. But yet, since the latter have some- 
what of a moral nature, we may see the reason of them considered 
in this view. Moral and positive precepts are in some respects alike, 
in other respects different. So far as they are alike, we discern the 
reasons of both ; so far as they are different, we discern the reasons 
of the former, but not of the latter. See p. 200, &c. and p 209. 
[It should be farther added, to prevent misconceptions, that a precept 
may \)Q positive, even though it have a ground or reason visible to us, 
if that reason do not, of itself, constitute the thing required an abso- 
lute duty. There are, for instance, visible reasons for the propriety 
of ranch an initiative rite as Christian baptism, and yet baptism ia 
only a positive institution, because those reasons are not sufficient of 
themselves to make the observance of s icn a rice an ubsiolTiitf 
iuty. — F.] 


OP CHRISTIANITY. 


CHAP. I.] 


20y 


external institutions founded on revealed religion, as ba.^.w!(sin in 
tlvi name of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. 

Seeondly, From the distinction between what is moral and 
what is positive in religion, appears the ground of that peculiar 
preference, which the Scripture teaches us to be due to tha 
former. 

The reason of positive institutions in general is very obvious, 
though we should not see the reason why such particular ones 
ire pitched upon, rather than others. Whoever therefore, 
instead of cavilling at words, will attend to the thing itself, 
may clearly see, that positive institutions in general, as distin- 
guished from this or that particular one, have the nature of 
moral commands ; since the reasons of them appear. Thus for 
instance, the external worship of God is a moral duty, though 
no particular mode of it be so. Care then is to be taken, when 
a comparison is made between positive and moral duties, that 
they be compared no farther than as they are different; no 
farther than as the former are positive, or arise out of mer^' 
external command, the reasons of which we are not acquainted 
with ; and as the latter are moral, or arise out of the apparent 
reason of the case, without such external command. Unless 
this caution be observed, we shall run into endless confasion. 

Now this being premised, suppose two standing precepts 
enjoined by the same authority ; that in certain conjunctures, 
it is impossible to obey both ; that the former is moral, i. e. a 
precept of which we see the reasons, and that they hold in the 
particular case before us; but that the latter is positive, i, e. a 
precept of which we do not see the reasons : it is indisputable 
that our obligations are to obey the former, because there is an 
apparent reason for this preference, and none against it. Far- 
ther, positive institutions, I suppose all those which Christianity 
enjoins, are means to a moral end; and the end must bo 
acknowledged more excellent than the means. Nor is ob- 
fciervance of these institutions any religious obedience at all, or 
cf any value, otherwise than as it proceeds from a moral prin- 
ciple. This seems to be the strict logical way of stating and 
determining this matter ; but will, perhaps, be found less appli- 
cable to practice* than may be thought at first sight. 

And therefore, in a more practical, though more lax way of 
consideration, and taking the words moral law and positive insti 
tutions, in the popular sense ; I add, that the whole moral law 
n as much matter of revealed command, a3 positive institution! 

18 * 


210 OF THE IMPORTANCE [PART H. 

arej for the Scripture enjoins every moial virtue. In this 
respect then, they are both upon a level. But the moral law 
IS, moreover, written upon our hearts ; interwoven into our very 
nature. And this is a plain intimation of the Author of it, 
which is to be preferred, when they interfere. 

But there is not altogether so much necessity for the deter* 
naination of this question, as some persons seem to think. Nor 
ire we left to reason alone to determine it. 'Bot, first, Though 
mankind have, in all ages, been greatly prone to place their 
religion in peculiar positive rites, by way of equivalent for obe- 
dience to moral precepts ; yet, without making any comparison at 
all between them, and consequently without determining which 
is to have the preference, the nature of the thing abundantly 
shows all notions of that kind to be utterly subversive of true 
religion ] as they are, moreover, contrary to the whole general 
tenor of Scripture, and likewise to the most express particular 
declarations of it, that nothing can render us accepted of God, 
without moral virtue. Secondly, Upon the occasion of men- 
tioning together positive and moral duties, the Scripture always 
puts the stress of religion upon the latter, and never upon the 
former; which, though no sort of allowance to neglect the for- 
mer, when they do not interfere with the latter, yet is a plain 
intimation, that when they do, the latter are to be preferred. 
And farther, as mankind are for placing the stress of their reli- 
gion any where, rather than upon virtue, lest both the reason 
of the thing, and the general spirit of Christianity, appearing 
in the intimation now mentioned, should be ineflFectual against 
this prevalent folly; our Lord himself, from whose command 
alone the obligation of positive institutions arises, has taken occa- 
sion to make the comparison between them and moral precepts, 
when the Pharisees censured him for eating with publicans and 
sinners ; and also when they censured his disciples for plucking 
ike ears of corn on the Sabbath day. Upon this comparison 
he has determined expressly, and in form, which shall have the 
preference when they interfere. And by delivering his authori- 
tative determination in a, proverbial manner of expression, he 
has made it general, I will have mercy, and not sacrifice.^ 
The propriety of the word proverbial is not the thing insisted 
arou, though I think the manner of speaking is to be called so. 
Bat that the manner of speaking very remarkably renders tho 


* Matt. ix. 13 and xii. 7. 


OF CURISTIANITY. 


211 


CHAP. I.] 

determination general, is surely indisputable. For had it, in 
the latter case, been said only, that God prelerred mercy to 
the rigid observance of the Sabbath, even then, by parity of 
reason, most justly might we have argued that he preferred 
mercy likewise to the observance of other ritual institutions, 
and in general, moral duties to positive ones. And thus the 
determination would have been general, though its being so 
were inferred, and not expressed. But as the passage really 
stands in the gospel, it is much stronger ; for the sense, and 
the very literal words of our Lord’s answer, are as applicable to 
any other instance of a comparison between positive and moral 
duties, as to this upon which they were spoken. And if in case 
of competition, mercy is to be preferred to positive institutions, 
it will scarce be thought that justice is to give place to them. 
It is remarkable too, that as the words are a quotation from the 
Old Testament, they are introduced, on both the fore-mentioned 
occasions, with a declaration, that the Pharisees did not under- 
stand the meaning of them. This, I say, is very remarkable^ 
for since it is scarce possible for the most ignorant person not 
to understand the literal sense of the passage in the Prophet,* 
and since understanding the literal sense would not have pre- 
vented their condemning the guiltless^'\ it can hardly be doubted, 
that the thing which our Lord really intended in that declaration 
was, that the Pharisees had not learned from it, as they might, 
wherein the general spirit of religion consists ; that it consists 
in moral piety and virtue, as distinguished from forms and ritual 
observances. However, it is certain we may learn this from his 
divine application of the passage in the gospel. 

But as it is one of the peculiar weaknesses of human nature, 
when, upon a comparison of two things, one is found to be of 
greater importance than the other, to consider this other as of 
scarce any importance at all; it is highly necessary that we 
remind ourselves, how great presumption it is to make light of 
any institutions of divine appointment; that our obligations to 
obey all God’s commands whatever, are absolute and indispen- 
sable; and that commands merely positive, admitted to be from 
him, lay us under a moral obligation to obey them ; an obliga- 
tion moral in the strictest and most proper sense. 

To these things I cannot forbear adding, that the account now 
given of Christianity, most strongly shows and enforces upon 


* Ilosea ri. 


f Matt. xii. 7. 


212 OF THE IMPORTANOE OP CHRISTIANITY. [PART H 

iis the obligation of searching the Scriptures, in order to see 
what the scheme of revelation really is, instead of determining 
beforehand from reason what the scheme of it must be.* Indeed, 
if in revelation there be found any passages, the seeming mean- 
ing of which is contrary to natural religion, we may most cer- 
tainly conclude such seeming meaning not to be the real one. 
But it is not any degree of a presumption against an interpreta- 
tion of Scripture, that such interpretation contains a doctrine 
which the light of nature cannot discover, f or a precept, which 
the law of nature does not oblige to. 


I. 




CHAP. I.J OF THE SUPPOSED PRESUMPTION. &C. 


218 


CHAP. 11. 

ry the supposed Presumption against a Revelation, Cirtnidsre^ 
as miraculous. 

Having shown the importance of the Christian revelation, 
and the obligations which we are under seriously to attend to 
it, upon supposition of its truth or its credibility; the next 
thing in order is, to consider the supposed presumptions against 
revelation in general; which shall be the subject of this chap- 
ter; and the objections against the Christian in particular, 
which shall be the subject of some following ones.* For it 
seems the most natural method to remove these prejudices 
against Christianity, before we proceed to the consideration of 
the positive evidence for it, and the objections against that evi 
dence.'t' 

It is, I think, commonly supposed, that there is some peculiar 
presumption, from the analogy of nature, against the Christian 
scheme of things, at least against miracles; so as that stronger 
evidence is necessary to prove the truth and reality of them, 
than would be sufficient to convince us of other events or 
matters of fact. Indeed the consideration of this supposed pre- 
sumption cannot but be thought very insignificant by many 
persons; yet as it belongs to the subject of this treatise, so it 
may tend to open the mind, and remove some prejudices, how- 
ever needless the consideration of it be, upon its own account. 

I. I find no appearance of a presumption, from the analogy 
of nature, against the general scheme of Christianity, that God 
created and invisibly governs the world by Jesus Christ, and 
by him also will hereafter judge it in righteousness, i. e,, render 
to every one according to his works; and that good men are 
under the secret influence of his Spirit. Whether those things 
are or are not to be called miraculous, is perhaps only a ques- 
tion about w'ords; or however, is of no moment in the case. If 
the analogy of nature raises any presumption against this gci> 


» Chap. ?, 4, 6, 6. 


t Chap. 7. 


'm 


OF THE SUPPOSED PRESUMPTION [PART R 

rral scheme of Christianity, it must be, either because it is not 
discoverable by reason or experience, or else because it is unlike 
that course of nature, which is. But analogy raises no pre' 
sumption against the truth of this scheme, upon either of these 
accounts. 

First, There is no presumption, from analogy, against the 
tmth of it, upon account of its not being discoverable by reason 
or experience. For suppose one who never heard of revelation, 
of the most impoved understanding, and acquainted with our 
whole system of natural philosophy and natural religion, such 
a one could not but be sensible, that it was but a very small 
part of the natural and moral system of the universe, which he 
was acquainted with. He could not but be sensible, that there 
must be innumerable things in the dispensations of Providence 
past, in the invisible government over the world at present 
carrying on, and in what is to come, of which he was wholly 
ignorant,* and which could not be discovered without reve- 
lation. Whether the scheme of nature be, in the strictest 
sense, infinite or not, it is evidently vast, even beyond all possi- 
ble imagination. And doubtless, that part of it which is open 
to our view, is but as a point in comparison of the whole plan 
of Providence, reaching throughout eternity past and future; 
in comparison of what is even now going on in the remote parts 
of the boundless universe: nay, in comparison of the whole 
scheme of this world. And therefore, that things lie beyond 
the natural reach of our faculties, is no sort of presumption 
against the truth and reality of them; because it is certain, 
there are innumerable things, in the constitution and government 
of the universe, which are thus beyond the natural reach of our 
faculties. Secondly, Analogy raises no presumption against 
any of the things contained in this general doctrine of Scripture 
now mentioned, upon account of their being unlike the known 
course of nature. For there is no presumption at all, from 
analogy, that the whole course of things, or divine government, 
naturally unknown to us, and every thing in it, is like to any 
thing in that which is known; and therefore no peculiar pre- 
sumption against any thing in the former, upon account of its 
being unlike to any thing in the latter. And in the constitu- 
tion and natural government of the world, as well as in the 
moral government of it, we see things, in a great degree unlikf 


* Pages, 182, 183. 


AGAINST MIRACLES, 


CHAP. II.] 


2!ft 


Diie anotlier; aud therefore ought not to wonder at such uulike- 
ness between things visible and invisible. However, the scheme 
of Christianity is by no means entirely unlike the scheme of 
nature ; as will appear in the following part of this treatise. 

The notion of a miracle,* considered as a proof of a divine 
mission, has been stated with great exactness by divines; and 
is, I think, sufficiently understood by every one. There are also 
invisible miracles : the incarnation of Christ, fo..' instance, which, 
being secret, cannot be alleged as a proof of such a mission ; but 
require themselves to be proved by visible miracles. Kevela- 
kion itself too is miraculous, and miracles are the proof of it; 
»nd the supposed presumption against these shall presently bo 
considered. All which I have been observing here is, that, 
whether we choose to call every thing in the dispensations of 
Providence, not discoverable without revelation, not like the 
known course of things, miraculous; and whether the general 
Christian dispensation now mentioned, is to be called so, or not; 
.-he foregoing observations seem entirely to show, that there is 
DO presumption against it, from the analogy of nature. 

II. There is no presumption, from analogy, against some 
operations, which we should now call miraculous; particularly, 
none against a revelation at the beginning of the world; 
nothing of such presumption against it, as is supposed to be 
implied or expressed in the word miraculous. For a miracle, 
in its very notion, is relative to a course of nature ; and implies 
somewhat different from it, considered as being so. Now, either 
there was no course of nature at the time which we are speak- 
ing of ; or if there were, we are not acquainted what the course 
ox nature is upon the first peopling of worlds. And therefore 
che question, whether mankind had a revelation made to them 
at that time, is to be considered, not as a question concerning 
a miracle, but as a common question of fact. And we have 
the like reason, be it more or less, to admit the report of tra- 
dition, concerning this question, and concerning common mat 
ters of fact of the same antiquity ; for instance, what part of 
the earth was first peopled. 

Or thus : When mankind was first placed in this state, there 
was a power exerted, totally different from the present course 
of nature. Now, whether this power, thus wholly different 


• [For a beautiful development of the idea of a miracle, the readei 
If referred to Mr. Trench's work on the Miracles, preliminary essay.] 


216 


OF THE SUPPOSED PRESUMPTION [PART 11 

from the present course of nature, for we cannot properly apply 
to it the word miraculous ; whether this power stopped imme- 
diately after it had made man, or went on, and exerted itself 
farther in giving him a revelation, is a question of the same 
kind, as whether an ordinary power exerted itself in such a 
particular degree and manner or not. 

Or suppose the power exerted in the formation of the world, 
be considered as miraculous, or rather be called by that name, 
the case will not be different ; since it must be acknowledged, 
Jshat such a power was exerted. For supposing it acknowledged 
that our Saviour spent some years in a course of working 
miracles; there is no more presumption worth mentioning, 
against his having exerted this miraculous power, in a certain 
degree greater, than in a certain degree less; in one or two 
more instances, than in one or two fewer; in this, than i» 
another manner.* 


* [This observation applies with great force against the modern 
rationalistic attempts to explain away some of our Saviour’s miracles 
into natural events, as long as it is confessed that he wrought real 
miracles, or that his mission was really miraculous. Such explana- 
tions are really more improbable than the common ones which suppose 
a miracle, because there is no general improbability in supposing that 
a person endowed with the power of working miracles exerted it upon 
a particular occasion ; whereas there is an improbability in supposing 
that an unusual natural event occurred ; and when this system of 
interpretation is carried on, and applied to a great number of cases, 
the improbability of a whole series of strange natural events taking 
place unaccountably one after the other, amounts, I think, to a far 
greater improbability than is involved in the admission of miracles ; 
because everything that is improbable in the physical strangeness of 
miracles applies to such a series of odd events, whilst we are deprived 
of the means of accounting for them by supposing an extraordinary 
interposition of the Deity. A romance made up wholly of natural 
occurrences which happen sometimes, but very rarely, is just ai 
incredible as a romance made up of stories about genii and enchanters, 
and things wholly supernatural. The improbability of both, with 
respect to physical strangeness, is just the same. “ Some infidels,” 
says the Archbishop of Dublin, “ have laboured to prove, concerning 
gome one of our Lord’s miracles, that it might have been the result of 
an accidental conjuncture of natural circumstances ; next they endea- 
vour to prove the same concerning another, and so on; and thenc« 
infer that all of them, occurring as a series, might have been so. 
They might argue, in like manner, that because it is not very impro- 
table one may throw sixes in any one out of a hundred throwSj 
therefore it is no more improbable that one may throw sixes a hun* 
iied times running.” — Logic, b. iii. b. 11. — F.] 


AGAINST M1RACL12S. 


217 


CHAP IT.] 

It is evident then, that there can be no peculiar presumption, 
from the analogy of nature, against supposing a revelation, 
when man was first placed upon the earth. 

Add, that there does not appear the least intimation in history 
or tradition, that religion was first reasoned out ; but the whole 
of history and tradition makes for the other side, that it came 
into the world by revelation. Indeed, the state of religion in 
the first ages, of which we have any account, seems to suppose 
and imply, that this was the original of it amongst mankind. 
And these reflections together, without taking in the peculiar 
authority of scripture, amount to real and a very material degree 
of evidence, that there was a revelation at the beginning of the 
world. Now this, as it is a confirmation of natural religion, 
and therefore mentioned in the former part of this treatise ; * 
so likewise, it has a tendency to remove any prejudices against 
•a subsequent revelation. 

III. But still it may be objected, that there is some peculiar 
presumption, from analogy, against miracles; particularly 
against revelation, after the settlement and during the con- 
tinuance of a course of nature. 

Now with regard to this supposed presumption, it is to be 
observed in general, that before we can have ground for raising 
what can, with any propriety, be called an argument from 
analogy, for or against revelation considered as somewhat mira- 
culous, we must be acquainted with a similar or parallel case. 
But the history of some other world, seemingly in like circum- 
stances with our own, is no more than a parallel case; and 
therefore nothing short of this can be so. Yet could we come 
at a presumptive proof, for or against a revelation, from being 
informed whether such world had one, or not; such a proof, 
being drawn from one single instance only, must be infinitely 
precarious. More particularly: First of all. There is a very 
strong presumption against common speculative truths, and 
against the most ordinary facts, before the proof of them; 
which yet is overcome by almost any proof. There is a pre- 
sumption of millions to one, against the story of Ccesar, or of 
any other man. For suppose a number of common facts so 
and so circumstanced, of which one had no kind of proof, should 
happen to come into one’s thoughts ; every one would, without 
any possible doubt, conclude them to be false. And the like 


19 


Page 174, &o 


218 OP YHE SCPPOSED PRESUMPTION [PART It 

may be said of a single common fact. And from \ience it ap- 
pears, that the question of importance, as to the matter before 
us, is, concerning the degree of the peculiar presumption sup- 
posed against miracles ; not whether there be any peculiar pre- 
sumption at all against them. For, if there be the presumption 
of millions to one, against the most common facts, what can a 
small presumption, additional to this, amount to, though it be 
peculiar ? It cannot be estimated, and is as nothing.* The 
only material question is, whether there be any such presump- 
tion against miracles, as to render them in any sort incredible 1 
Secondly, if we leave out the consideration of religion, we are 
in such total darkness, upon what causes, occasions, reasons, or 
circumstances, the present course of nature depends, that there 
does not appear any improbability for or against supposing, that 
five or six thousand years may have given scope for causes, 
occasions, reasons or circumstances, from whence miraculous 
interpositions may have arisen. And from this, joined with the 
foregoing observation, it will follow, that there must be a pre- 
sumption, beyond all comparison greater, against the particular 
common facts just now instanced in, than against miracles in 
general ; before any evidence of either. But, thirdly, Take in 
the consideration of religion, or the moral system of the world, 
and then we see distinct particular reasons for miracles; to 
afford mankind instruction additional to that of nature, and to 
attest the truth of it. And this gives a real credibility to the 


* [Butler supposes, in the first instance, a series of events to have 
come gratuitously into one’s mind ; and, after stating the almost infi- 
nite number of chances against its being true, supposes, in the second 
instance, these very events to be deponed to by a credible witness. 
Now, that both the first and the second of these things should happen 
in coincidence together were the strongest possible unlikelihood ; and 
Butler says truly, that the presumption against a miracle is a small 
presumption additional to this ; for, in fact, this were itself a miracle. 
The proper way of estimating the strength of the presumption 
against, or of the proof that would be necessary for the establish- 
ment of a miracle, is to bring it into comparison, not with the pre- 
sumption against the truth of a previously conceived story, but with 
the presumption against the truth of an already reported story that 
related to events which were not miraculous. There will be found in 
this case a dilference very much greater than the small additional 
presumption which Butler speaks .of; and so, however striking or 
original his observation may be, there seems nothing in it which can 
guide us into a right track for the solution of the difficulty that sines 
his time has so exorcised the skill of controversialists. — Chalmer9.'\ 


CHAP. II. J AGAINST MIRACLES. 219 

supposition, that it might be part of the original plan of things, 
that there should be miraculous interpositions. Then, iasily^ 
Miracles must not be compared to common natural events 3 or, 
to events which, though uncommon, are similar to what we 
daily experience ; but to the extraordinary phenomena of nature. 
And then the comparison will be between the piesumption 
against miracles, and the presumption against such uncommon 
appearances, suppose, as comets, and against their being any 
such powers in nature as magnetism and electricity, so contrary 
to the properties of other bodies not endued with tnese powers. 
And before any one can determine, whether there be any 
peculiar presumption against miracles, more than against other 
extraordinary things, he must consider, what, upon first hearing, 
would be the presumption against the last-mentioned appearances 
and powers, to a person acquainted only with the daily, monthly, 
and annual course of nature respecting this eai-th, and with 
those common powers of matter which we every day see. 

Upon all this I conclude; that there certainly is no such pre- 
sumption against miracles, as to render them in anywise incre- 
dible 3 that on the contrary, our being able to discern reasons 
for them, gives a positive credibility to the history of them, in 
cases where those reasons hold; and that it is by no means 
certain, that there is any peculiar presumption at all, from 
analogy, even in the lowest degree, against miracles, as distin- 
guished from other extraordinary phenomena 3 though it is not 
worth while to perplex the reader with inquiries into the 
abstract nature of evidence, in order to determine a question, 
which, without such inquiries, we see* is of no importance. 

* Page 217, Itc. 


420 


THE CREDIBILITY OF REVELATION fPART 11 


CHAP. III. 

OJ our Incapacity of judging ^ what were to be expected tn a 
Revelation ; and the Credibility, from Analogy, that it must 
contain things appearing liable to Objections.^ 

Besides the objections against the evidence for Christianity, 
many are alleged against the scheme of it ; against the whole 
manner in which it is put and left with the world, as well as 
against several particular relations in Scripture : objections drawn 
from the deficiencies of revelation ; from things in it appearing 
to men foolishness :f from its containing matters of ofience, 
which have led, and it must have been foreseen would lead, into 
strange enthusiasm and superstition, and be made to serve the 
purpose? of tyranny and wickedness ; from its not being univer- 
sal ; and. which is a thing of the same kind, from its evidence 
not being so convincing and satisfactory as it might have been ; 
for this last is sometimes turned into a positive argument against 


* [The )bject of this chapter is to prove the likelihood, in the gen- 
eral, of •. revelation being liable to objections, or at least that its 
being so forms no proper ground for the rejection of it. This reduces 
us to the consideration of its proofs, as the only relevant inquiry that 
we have to do with. Doubtless every objection against these proofs 
must be entertained, and satisfactorily disposed of. But this is differ- 
ent from objections against the subject-matter of a revelation. These 
form what are here called its internal improbabilities, much insisted 
on by Deists ; but all proceeding on the competency of the human 
understanding to decide upon a topic which is here shown to be much 
too high for it, we being no more judges beforehand of what a reve- 
lation ought to be, either in the way it ought to be conducted or what 
it should contain, than we are judges anterior to experience of what 
ought to be the course of nature. The alleged imperfections and 
inomalies in the methods by which Christianity distributed and gave 
forth her lessons, are most effectually met by the analogous imperfec- 
tions and anomalies, if such they must be called, as contrary to all 
the likelihoods of previous expectation, that might be observed in the 
gifts and' teaching of nature. — Chalm€rg.'\ 
t 1 Cor. i. 28. 


OHAP III.J 


LIABLE TO OBJECTIONS. 


221 


its truth.* It would be tedious, indeed impossible, to enurncrat® 
the several particulars comprehended under the objections here 
referred to, they being so various according to the different 
fancies of men. There are persons who think it a strong objec* 
tion against the authority of Scripture, that it is not composed 
by rules of art, agreed upon by critics, for polite and correct 
writing. And the scorn is inexpressible, with which some of 
he prophetic parts of Scripture are treated; partly through the 
ashness of interpreters, but very much also on account of the 
ftier )glyphical and figurative language in which they are left us. 
Some of the principal things of this sort shall be particularly 
considered in the following Chapters. But my design at present 
iS to observe in general, with respect to this whole way of argu- 
uig, that, upon supposition of a revelation, it is highly credible 
(wsforehand, we should be incompetent judges of it to a great 
uegree ; and that it would contain many things appearing to us 
liable to great objections, in case we judge of it otherwise than 
by the analogy of nature. And therefore, though objections 
against the evidence of Christianity are most seriously to be 
consiaered, yet objections against Christianity itself are, in a 
great measure, frivolous ; almost all objections against it, except- 
ing those which are alleged against the particular proofs of its 
coming from Grod. I express myself with caution, lest I should 
be mistaken to vilify reason, which is indeed the only faculty 
we have wnerewlth to judge concerning any thing, even revela- 
tion itself; or be misunderstood to assert, that a supposed reve- 
lation cannot be proved false from internal characters. For it 
may contain clear immoralities or contradictions ; and either of 
these would prove it false. Nor will I take upon me to affirm, 
that nothing else can possibly render any supposed revelation in- 
credible. Yet still the observation above is, I think, true beyond 
doubt, that objections against Christianity, as distinguished from 
objections against its evidence, are frivolous. To make out this, 
is the general design of the present Chapter. And with regard 
to the whole of it, I cannot but particularly wish, that the proofs 
might be attended to, rather than the assertions cavilled at, upon 
account of any unacceptable consequences, whether real or sup- 
posed, which may be drawn from them. For after all, that 
which is true, must be admitted; though it should show us the 
shortness of our faculties, and that we are in nowise judges 0/ 


19 * 


* Chap. 6. 


21i2 


THE CREDIBILITY OE REVELATION [PART 11 

many things, of which wc are apt to think ourselves very com 
petent ones. Nor will this be any objection with reasonable 
men ; at least upon second thought it will not be any objection 
with such, against the justness of the following observations: — 
As Grod governs the world, and instructs his creatures, accord- 
ing to certain laws or rules, in the known course of nature, 
known by reason together with experience; so the Scripture 
informs us of a scheme of divine Providence, additional to this. 
It relates, that God has, by revelation, instructed men in things 
soncerning his government, which they could not otherwise have 
known, and reminded them of things which they might other- 
wise know; and attested the truth of the whole by miracles. 
Now if the natural and the revealed dispensation of things are 
both from God, if they coincide with each other, and together 
make up one scheme of Providence, our being incompetent 
judges of one, must render it credible that we may be incom- 
petent judges also of the other. Since, upon experience, th»3 
acknowledged constitution and course of nature is found to be 
greatly different from what, before experience, would have been 
expected; and such as, men fancy, there lie great objections 
against : this renders it beforehand highly credible, that they 
may find the revealed dispensation likewise, if they judge of it 
as they do of the constitution of nature, very different from 
expectations formed beforehand; and liable, in appearance, to 
great objections ; objections against the scheme itself, and against 
the degrees and manners of the miraculous interpositions by 
which it was attested and carried on. Thus suppose a prince to 
govern his dominions in the wisest manner possible, by common 
known laws ; and that upon some exigencies he should suspend 
these laws, and govern, in several instances, in a different man- 
ner : if one of his subjects were not a competent judge before- 
hand, by what common rules the government should or would 
be carried on, it could not be expected, that the same person 
would be a competent judge in what exigencies, or in what 
manner, or to what degree, those laws commonly observed would 
be suspended or deviated from. If he were not a judge of the 
wisdom of the ordinary administration, there is no reason to 
think be would be a judge of the wisdom of the extraordinary. 
If he thought he had objections against the former, doubtless, 
it is highly supposable, he might think also, that he had objec- 
tious against the latter. And thus, as we fall into infinite follies 
and mistakes, whenever we pretend, otherwise than from exp& 


<JHAP. ni.] LIABLE TO OBJECTIONS. 223 

rience and analogy, to judge of the constitution and cource of 
nature, it is evidently supposable beforehand that we should fall 
into as great, in pretending to judge, in like manner, concerning 
revelafton. Nor is there any more ground to expect that this 
latter should appear to us clear of objections, than that the for- 
mer should. 

These observations relating to the whole of Christianity, aia 
applicable to inspiration in particular. As we are in no sort 
judges beforehand, by what laws or rules, in what degree, or 
by what means, it were to have been expected that God would 
naturally instruct us ; so upon supposition of his affording us 
light and instruction by revelation, additional to what he has 
afforded us by reason and experience, we are in no sort judges, 
by what methods, and in what proportion, it were to be expected, 
that this supernatural light and instruction would be afforded 
us. We know not beforehand, what degree or kind of natural 
information, it were to be expected God would afford men, each 
by his own reason and experience; nor how far he would enable, 
and effectually dispose them to communicate it, whatever it 
should be, to each other; nor whether the evidence of it would 
be certain, highly probable, or doubtful ; nor whether it would 
be given with equal clearness and conviction to all. Nor could 
we guess, upon any good ground I mean, whether natural 
knowledge, or even the faculty itself by which we are capable 
of attaining it, reason, would be given us at once, or gradually. 
In like manner, we are wholly ignorant what degree of new 
knowledge, it were to be expected, God would give mankind by 
revelation, upon supposition of his affording one; or how far, 
or in what way, he would interpose miraculously, to qualify 
them, to whom he should originally make the revelation, for 
communicating the knowledge given by it; and to secure their 
doing it to the age in which they should live; and to secure its 
being transmitted to posterity. We are equally ignorant, whether 
the evidence of it would be certain, or highly probable, or 
doubtful;* or whether all who should have any degree of in- 
struction from it, and any degree of e’vddence of its truth, would 
have the same : or whether the scheme would be revealed at 
once, or unfolded gradually. Nay, we are not in any sort 
^hle to judge, whether it were to have been expected, that the 
re relation should have been committed to writing; or left to bo 


* See Chap. 6 


224 THE CREDIBILITY OF REVELATION j^PART II 

handed down, and consequently corrupted by verbal tradition, 
and at length sunk under it, if mankind so pleased, and during 
such time as they are permitted, in the degree they evidently 
are, to act as they will. 

But it may be said, that a revelation in some of the above- 
mentioned circumstances, one, for instance, which was not com- 
mitted to writing, and thus secured against danger of corruptiott; 
would not have answered its purpose.^' I ask, what purpose? 
It would not have answered all the purposes which it has now 
answered, and in the same degree ; but it would have answered 
others, or the same in different degrees. And which of these 
were the purposes of God, and best fell in with his general go- 
vernment, we could not at all have determined beforehand. 

Now since it has been shown, that we have no principles of 
reason upon which to judge beforehand, how it were to be ex- 
pected revelation should have been left, or what was most suita- 
ble to the divine plan of government, in any of the fore-men- 
tioned respects ; it must be quite frivolous to object afterwards 
as to any of them, against its being left in one way rather than 
another; for this would be to object against things upon account 
of their being different from expectations, which have been 
shown to be without reason. And thus we see that the only 
question concerning the truth of Christianity is, whether it be 
a real revelation; not whether it be attended with every 
circumstance which we should have looked for: and con- 
cerning the authority of Scripture, whether it be what it 
claims to be ; not whether it be a book of such sort, ■ and 
so promulgated, as weak men are apt to fancy a book containing 
a divine revelation should. And therefore, neither obscurity, 
nor seeming inaccuracy of style, nor various readings, nor early 
disputes about the authors of particular parts, nor any other 
things of the like kind, though they had been much more con- 
siderable in degree than they are, could overthi\)w the authority 
of the Scripture ; unless the Prophets, Apostles, or our Lord, 
had promised, that the book, containing the divine revelation, 
should be secure from those things. Nor indeed can any objec- 
tions overthrow such a kind of revelation as the Christian claims 
to be, since there are no objections against the morality of it,* 
but such as can show, that there is no proof of miracles wrought 
originally in attestation of it; no appearance of any thing 


* Page 230, &c 


CHAP. III.J LIABLE TO OBJECTIONS. 225 

miraculous in its obtaining in tbe world ; nor an^ of prophecy, 
that is, of events foretold, which human sagacity could not 
foresee. If it can be shown, that the proof alleged for all 
these, is absolutely none at all, then is revelation overturned 
But were it allowed, that the proof of any one, or all of them, 
is lower than is allowed; yet whilst any proof of them remains, 
revelation will stand upon much the same footing it does at 
present, as to all the purposes of life and practice, and ought to 
have the like influence upon our behaviour. 

From the foregoing observations too, it will follow, and those 
who will thoroughly examine into revelation will find it worth 
remarking, that there are several ways of arguing, which, 
though just with regard to other writings, are not applicable to 
Scripture; at least not to the prophetic parts of it. We cannot 
argue, for instance, that this cannot be the sense or intent of 
such a passage of Scripture, for if it had, it would have been 
expressed more plainly, or have been represented under a more 
apt figure or hieroglyphic ; yet we may justly argue thus, with 
respect to common books. And the reason of this difference ia 
very evident; that in Scripture we are not competent judges, 
as we are in common books, how plainly it were to have been 
expected, what is the true sense should have been expressed, or 
under how apt an image figured. The only question is, what 
appearance there is that this is the sense ? and scarce at all, how 
much more determinately or accurately it might have been 
expressed or figured ? 

“ But is it not self-evident, that internal improbabilities of all 
kinds, weaken external probable proof 1 ” Doubtless. But tc 
what practical purpose can this be alleged here, when it has 
been proved before,* that real internal improbabilities, which 
rise even to moral certainty, are overcome by the most ordinary 
testimony ? and when it now has been made appear, that we 
scarce know what arc improbabilities, as to the matter we are 
here considering ? as will farther appear from what follows. 

For though from the observations above made, it is manifest, 
that we are not in any sort competent judges, what supernatural 
instruction were to have been expected ; and though it is self- 
evident, that the objections of an incompetent judgment, must 
be frivolous ; yet it may be proper to go one step farther, and 
observe, that if men will be regardless of these things, and pre. 


* Page 217, &c. 


226 THE OREDIBILWT OF REVELATION [PART II 

tend to judge of the Scriptures by preconceived expectations, 
the analogy of natuie shows beforehand, not only that it is 
highly credible they may, but also probable that they will, 
imagine they have strong objections against it, however really 
unexceptionable : for so, prior to experience, they would think 
they had, against the circumstances, and degrees, and the whole 
manner of that instruction, which is afforded by the ordinary 
course of nature. Were the instruction which God affords to 
brute creatures by instincts and mere propensions, and to man- 
kind by these together with reason, matter of probable proof, 
And not of certain observation, it would be rejected as incredible, 
in many instances of it, only upon account of the means by 
which this instruction is given, the seeming disproportions, the 
limitations, necessary conditions, and circumstances, of it. For 
instance : would it not have been thought highly improbable, 
that men should have been so much more capable of discovering, 
even to certainty, the general laws of matter, and the magni- 
tudes, paths, and revolutions of the heavenly bodies ; than the 
occasions and cures of distempers, and many other things, in 
which human life seems so much more nearly concerned, than 
in astronomy ? How capricious and irregular a way of informa- 
tion, would it be said, is that of invention, by means of which 
nature instructs us in matters of science, and in many things 
upon which the affairs of the world greatly depend ) that a 
man should by this faculty be made acquainted with a thing in 
an instant, when perhaps he is thinking of somewhat else, 
which he has in vain been searching after, it may be, for years. 
So likewise the imperfections attending the only method, by 
which nature enables and directs us to communicate our thoughts 
to each other, are innumerable. Language is in its very nature, 
inadequate, ambiguous, liable to infinite abuse, even from negli- 
gence; and so liable to it from design, that every man can 
deceive and betray by it. And to mention but one instance 
more, that brutes without reason, should act, in many respects, 
with a sagacity and foresight vastly greater than what men have 
in those respects, would be thought impossible. Yet it is cer- 
tain they do act with such superior foresight: whether it be 
their own indeed, is another question. From these things it is 
highly credible beforehand, that upon supposition God should 
afford men some additional instruction by revelation, it would 
be with circumstances, in manners, degrees, and respects which 
we should be apt to fancy we had great objections against tb« 


OHAP. [II.] IJABLE TO OBJECTIONS. 227 

credibility of. Noi are the objections against the ScrifAure, noj 
against Christianity in general, at all more or greater than the 
analogy of nature would beforehand, — not perhaps give ground 
to expect ; for this analogy may not be sufficient, in some cases, 
to ground an expectation upon ; — but no more nor greater, than 
analogy would show it, beforehand, to be supposable and 
wedible, that there might seem to lie against revelation. 

By applying these general observations to a particular objeo 
^on, it will be more distinctly seen, how they are applicable to 
;)thers of the like kind; and indeed to almost all objections 
against Christianity, as distinguished from objections against its 
evidence. It appears from Scripture, that as it was not 
unusual in the apostolic age for persons, upon their conversion 
to Christianity, to be endued with miraculous gifts; so, some 
of those persona exercised these gifts in a strangely irregular 
and disorderly manner : and this is made an objection against 
their being really miraculous. Now the foregoing observations 
quite remove this objection, how considerable soever it may 
appear at first sight. For, consider a person endued with any 
of these gifts, for instance, that of tongues ; it is to be sup- 
posed that he had the same power over this miraculous gift as 
be would have had over it, had it been the effect of habit, of 
study, and use, as it ordinarily is ; or the same power over it, 
as he had over any other natural endowment. Ccnsequently. 
he would use it in the same manner he did any other ; either 
regularly and upon proper occasions only, or irregularly and 
upon improper ones; according to his sense of decency, and 
his character of prudence. Where then is the objection? 
Why, if this miraculous power was indeed given to the world 
to propagate Christianity, and attest the truth of it, we might, 
it seems, have expected, that other sort of persons should have 
been chosen to be invested with it ; or that these should at the 
same time, have been endued with prudence; or that they 
should have been continually restrained, and directed in the 
exercise of it : i. e. that God should have miraculously inter- 
posed, if at all, in a different manner or higher degree. But, 
from the observations made above, it is undeniably evident, 
that we are not judges in what degrees and manners it were to 
hav; been expected he should miraculously interpose; upon 
supposition of his doing it in some degree and manner. Nor, 
iii the natural course of Providence, are superioi gifts of 
memory, eloquence, knowledge, and other talents of greal 


228 


THE CREDIBILITY OF REVELATION | PARI 11 


influence, conferred only on persons of prudence and decency, 
or such as are disposed to make the properest use of them. 
Nor is the instruction and admonition naturally afforded us foi 
the conduct of life, particularly in our education, commonly 
pven in a manner the most suited to recommend it; but 
often with circumstances apt to prejudice us against such 
instruction. 

One might go on to add, that there is a great resemblanoa 
between the light of nature and of revelation, in several other 
tfespects. Practical Christianity, or that faith and behaviour 
which renders a man a Christian, is a plain and obvious thing; 
like the common rules of conduct, with respect to our ordinary 
temporal affairs. The more distinct and particular knowledge 
of those things, the study of which the apostle calls going on 
unto perfection/^ and of the prophetic parts of revelation, like 
many parts of natural and even civil knowledge, may require 
very exact thought and careful consideration. The hindrances 
too, of natural and of supernatural light and knowledge, have 
been of the same kind. And as it is owned, the whole scheme 
of Scripture is not yet understood, so, if it ever comes to be 
understood before the ^^restitution of all things/’ and without 
miraculous interpositions, it must be in the same way as natural 
knowledge is come at; by the continuance and progress of learn- 
ing and of liberty, and by particular persons attending to, com- 
paring, and pursuing, intimations scattered up and down it, which 
are overlooked and disregarded by the generality of the world. 
For this is the way in which all improvements are made ; by 
tnoughtful men’s tracing on obscure hints, as it were, dropped us 
by nature accidentally, or which seem to come into our minds 
by chance. Nor is it at all incredible, that a book which has 
been so long in the possession of mankind should contain many 
truths as yet undiscovered. For all the same phenomena, and 
the same faculties of investigation, from which such great dis- 
cjoveries in natural knowledge have been made in the present 
And last age, were equally in the possession of mankind several 
thousand years before. And possibly it might be intended, that 
events, as they come to pass, should open and ascertain the 
meaning of several parts of Scripture. 

It may be objected, that this analogy fails in a material respect; 
for that natural knowledge is of little or no consequence. Bui 
1. have been speaking of the general instruction, which nature 
does or docs not afford us. Ann besides, some parts of nature? 


LIABLE TO OBJECTIONS. 


229 


CHAP. III.J 

knowledge, in the more common restrained sense of the words, are 
of the greatest consequence to the ease and convenience of life. 
But suppose the analogy did, as it does not, fail in this respect, 
yet it might be abundantly supplied from the whole constitution 
and course of nature ; which shows that God does not dispense 
hie gifts according to our notions of the advantage and conse- 
quence they would be of to us. And this in general, witli his 
method of dispensing knowledge in particular, would together 
QQake out an analogy full to the point before us. 

But it may be objected still farther, and more generally — 
The Scripture represents the world as in a state of ruin, and 
Christianity as an expedient to recover it, to help in these 
respects where nature fails; in particular, to supply the defi- 
ciencies of natural light. Is it credible then, that so many ages 
should have been let pass, before a matter of such a sort, of so 
great and so general importance, was made known to mankind ; 
and then that it should be made known to so small a part of 
them ? Is it conceivable, that this supply should be so very 
deficient, should have the like obscurity and doubtfulness, be 
liable to the like perversions ; in short, lie open to all the like 
objections, as the light of nature itself?’^* Without determining 
how far this in fact is so, I answer; it is by no means incredible 
that it might be so, if the light of nature and of revelation be from 
the same hand. Men are naturally liable to diseases; for which 
God, in his good providence, has provided natural remedies.f 
But remedies existing in nature have been unknown to mankind 
for many ages; are known but to few now; probably many 
valuable ones are not known yet. Great has been, and is, the 
obscurity and difficulty, in the nature and application of them. 
Circumstances seem often to make them very improper, where 
they are absolutely necessary. It is after long labour and study, 
and many unsuccessful endeavours, that they are brought to be 
as useful as they are ; after high contempt and absolute rejec- 
tion of the most useful we have ; and after disputes and doubts, 
which have seemed to be endless. The best remedies too, when 
unskilfully, much more if dishonestly applied, may produce new 
diseases ; and with the rightest application, the success of them 
is often doubtful. In many cases, they are not at all effectual j 
where they are, it is often very slowly : and the application of 
^hem, and the necessary regimen accompanying it, is, not uncomF 


» Chap. 6. 


20 


I Chap. B, 


230 THE CREDIBILITY OF REVELATION [DARI II 

monly, so disagreeable, that sorae will not submit to them | and 
satisfy themselves with the excuse, that if they w'^u d, it is not 
certain whether it would be successful. And i4.auy persons, 
who labour under diseases, for which there are known natural 
remedies, are not so happy as to be always, if ever, in the way 
of them. In a word, the remedies which nature has provided 
for diseases, are neither certain, perfect, nor universal. And 
indeed the same principles of arguing, which would lead us to 
conclude, that they must be so, would lead us likewise to con- 
jiude, that there could be no occasion for them ; i. e. that there 
could be no diseases at all. And therefore, our experience that 
there are diseases, shows, that it is credible beforehand, upon 
supposition nature has provided remedies for them, that these 
remedies may be, as by experience we find they are, not certain, 
nor perfect, nor universal ; because it shows, that the principles 
upon which we should expect the contrary are fallacious. 

And now, what is the just consequence from all these things? 
Not that reason is no judge of what is offered to us as being of 
divine revelation. For this would be to infer, that we are un- 
able to judge of any thing, because we are unable to judge of 
all things. Reason can, and it ought to judge, not only of the 
meaning, but also of the morality and the evidence, of revela- 
tion. First j It is the province of reason to judge of the 
morality of the Scripture ; i. e. not whether it contains things 
different from what we should have expected from a wise, just, 
and good Being; for objections from hence have been now 
obviated ; but whether it contains things plainly contradictory to 
wisdom, justice, or goodness; to what the light of nature teaches 
us of Grod. And I know nothing of this sort objected against 
Scripture, excepting such objections as are formed upon suppo- 
sitions, which would equally conclude, that the constitution of 
nature is contradictory to wisdom, justice, or goodness; which 
most certainly it is not. Indeed, there are some particular 
precepts in Scripture, given to partiaular persons, requiring ac- 
tions which would be immoral and vicious, were it not for such 
precepts. But it is easy to see, that all these are of such a kind 
AS that the precept changes the whole nature of the case and of 
the action ; and both constitutes and shows that not to be unjust 
or immoral, which, prior to the precept, must have appeared 
ind really have been so : which may well be, since none of these 
precepts are contrary to immutable morality. If it were com* 
manded. to cultivate the principles, and act from the spirit of 


LIABLE TO OBJECTIONS. 


281 


CHAP. 111.] 

treachery, ingratitude, cruelty; the command would net altei 
the nature of the case, or of the action, in any of these instances. 
But it is quite otherwise in precepts, which require only the 
doing an external action ; for instance, taking away the property 
or life of any. For men have no right to either life or property, 
but what arises solely from the grant of Grod : when this grant 
is revoked, they cease to have any right at all in either; and 
when this revocation is made known, as surely it is possible it 
may be, it must cease to be unjust to deprive them of either. 
And though a course of external acts, which without command 
would be immoral, must make an immoral habit, yet a few de- 
tached commands have no such natural tendency. I thought 
proper to say thus much of the few Scripture precepts, which 
require not vicious actions, but actions which would have been 
vicious had it not been for such precepts; because they are 
sometimes weakly urged as immoral, and great weight is laid 
upon objections drawn from them. But to me there seems no 
diflSculty at all in these precepts, but what arises from their 
being offences; i. e. from their being liable to be perverted, as 
indeed they are, by wicked designing men, to serve the most 
horrid purposes, and, perhaps, to mislead the weak and enthusi- 
astic. And objections from this head, arc not objections against 
revelation, but against the whole notion of religion as a trial ; 
and against the general constitution of nature. Secondly^ 
Reason is able to judge, and must, of the evidence of revela- 
tion, and of the objections urged against that evidence ; which 
shall be the subject of a following Chapter.* 

But the consequence of the foregoing observations is, that the 
question upon which the truth of Christianity depends, is scarce 
at all, what objections there are against its scheme, since there 
are none against the morality of it; but what objections there 
are against its evidence: or, what proof there remains of it, 
after due allowances made for the objections against that 
proof : because it has been shown, that the objections against 
Christianity, as distinguished from objections against its evi- 
dence, are frivolous. For surely every little weight, if any at 
all, is to be laid upon a way of arguing and objecting, which, 
when applied to the general constitution of nature, experience 
shows not to be conclusive : and such, I think, is the whole way of 
objecting treated of throughout this chapter. It is resolvable 


Chap. 7 


232 THE CREDIBILITY OP REVELATION, &0. [PART 11 

into principles, and goes upon suppositions, which mislead us tc 
think, that the Author of Nature would not act, as we experience 
he does ; or would act, in such and such cases, as we experience 
he does not in like cases. But the unreasonableness of this wa} 
of objecting will appear yet more evidently from hence, that 
the chief things thus objected against, are justified, as shall ba 
farther shown,* by distinct, particular, and full analogies, ia 
th? constitution and course of nature. 

But it is to be remembered, that as frivolous as objections of 
the foregoing sort against revelation are, yet, when a supposed 
revelation is more consistent with itself, and has a more genera! 
and uniform tendency to promote virtue, than, all circumstances 
considered, could have been expected from enthusiasm, and 
political views ; this is a presumptive proof of its not proceed- 
ing from them, and so of its truth ; because we are competent 
judges, what might have been expected from enthusiasm and 
political views.f 


* Chap. 4, latter part ; and 5, 6. 

•}• [In arguing that a revelation cannot have come from perfect wis- 
dom, because there are in it things which seem to us foolishness, we 
are arguing in the dark. But in arguing that it cannot have come 
from human fraud or enthusiasm, we are dealing with matters which 
we may perfectly understand, because coming within the sphere of 
our daily experience. See the latter argument admirably pressed ia 
the Archbishop of Dublin’s Essays oc the Peculiarities of the Chris- 
tUm Beliffioo, and on th? OmisBioas cf Scripture.— F.] 


4lP. IV ! 


CHRISTIANITY A SCHEME, &0. 


28 a 


CHAP. IV. 

ty Christianity i considered as a Scheme or Cmstitutian, %m 
perfectly comprehended. 

It hath been now shown,* that the analogy of nature renders 
it highly credible beforehand, that supposing a revelation to be 
made, it must contain many things very different from what we 
should have expected, and such as appear open to great objec- 
tions ; and that .this observation, in good measure, takes off the 
force of those objections, or rather precludes them. But it may 
Le alleged, that this is a very partial answer to such objections, 
or a very unsatisfactory way of obviating them ; because it doth 
not show at all, that the things objected against can be wise, 
just, and good ; much less, that it is credible they are so. It 
will therefore be proper to show this distinctly, by applying to 
these objections against the wisdom, justice, and goodness of 
Christianity, the answer abovef given to the like objections 
against the constitution of nature ; before we consider the par- 
ticular analogies m the latter, to the particular things objected 
against in the former. Now that which affords a sufficient 
answer to objections against the wisdom, justice, and goodness 
of the constitution of nature, is its being a constitution, a sys- 
tem, or scheme, imperfectly comprehended; a scheme, in which 
means are made use of to accomplish ends ; and which is carried 
on by general laws Por from these things it has been proved, 
not only to be possible, but also to be credible, that those things 
which are objected against, may be consistent with wisdom, jus- 
tice, and goodness ; nay, may be instances of them : and even 
that the constitution and government of nature may be perfect 
in the highest possible degree. If Christianity then be a scheme. 
»nd of the like kind, it is evident, the like objections against it 
must admit of the like answer. And, 

I. Christianity is a scheme quite beyond our comprehension 


♦ In the foregoing Chapter. 

+ Part i. Chap. 7, to which this all along refers. 
20 * 


234 


CHRISTIANITY A SCHEME 


[part n 


The moral g0Y3rnmcnt of God is exercised, by gradually con* 
ducting things so in the course of his providence, that every 
one, at length, and upon the whole, shall receive according to 
his deserts ; and neither fraud nor violence, but. truth and right, 
shall finally prevail. Christianity is a particular scheme under 
this general plan of providence, and a part of it, conducive to 
its completion with regard to mankind : consisting itself also of 
various parts, and a mysterious economy, which has been cany- 
‘ng on from the time the world came into its present wretched 
state, and is still carrying on, for its recovery, by a divine per- 
son, the Messiah ; who is to gather together in one, the chiU 
dren of God that are scattered abroad,”"^ and establish an 
everlasting kingdom, wherein dwclleth righteousness’’’\ And 
in order to it, after various manifestations of things, relating to 
this great and general scheme of Providence, through a succes- 
sion of many ages ; — (for the Spirit of Christ, which was in 
the prophets, testified beforehand his sufferings, and the glory 
that should follow : unto whom it was retwaled, that not unto 
themselves, hut unto us, they did minister the things which art 
now reported unto us by them which have preached the gospel ; 
which things the angels desire to look info — after variousi 
dispensations, looking forward and preparatory to this final sal- 
vation, ^‘in the fulness of time,” when infinite Wisdom thought 
fit. He, being in the form of God, made himself of no repu- 
tation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made 
\n the likeness of men; and being found in fashion as a man, 
he humbled himself, and became obedient to death, even the 
death of the cross: wherefore God also hath highly exalted him, 
and given him a name which is above every name : that at the 
name of Jesus every knee should how, of things in heaven, and 
things in earth, and things under the earth ; and that every 
tongue should confess, that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory 
of God the Father.”^ Parts likewise of this economy are the 
miraculous mission of the Holy Ghost, and his ordinary assist- 
ances given to good men ; the invisible government which Christ 
*t present exercises over his church ; that which he himself 
refers to in these words, In my Father’s house are many man- 
sions — I go to prepare a place for you ;”\\ and his futuro 
return to judge the world in righteousness,” and completely 


* John xi. 62. 

I PhiL ii. 6, 11 


t 2 Pet. iii. 13. 
U Jehn xiv. 2. 


J 1 Pet. i. 11, 12. 


235 


ehap. iv.J imperfectly comprehended 

re-establish the kingdom of God. ‘^For the Father jxidgeth nc 
man; hut hath committed all judgment unto the Son: that all 
men should honour the Son, even as they honour the Father”"^ 
“ Ml power is given unto him in heaven and in carth.’’'\ 
he must reigny till he hath put all his enemies under his feet. 
Then cometh the end, when he shall have delivered up the king~ 
dom to God, even the Father ; when he shall have put down all 
rule, and all authority, and power. And when all things shall 
be subdued unto him, then shall the Son also himself be subject 
unto him, that put all things under him, that God may be all 
in all.’ ’I Now little, surely, need be said to show, that this 
oystem, or scheme of things, is but imperfectly comprehended 
by us. The Scripture expressly asserts it to be so. And indeed 
one cannot read a passage relating to this great mystery of 
godliness,*’^ but what immediately runs up into something which 
shows us our ignorance in it, as every thing in nature shows ua 
our ignorance in the constitution of nature. And whoever will 
seriously consider that part of the Christian scheme which is 
revealed in Scriptnre, will find so mnch more unrevealed, as will 
convince him, that, to all the purposes of judging and objecting, 
we know as little of it, as of the constitution of nature. Our 
ignorance, therefore, is as much an answer to our objections against 
the perfection of one, as against the perfection of the other. || 

II. It is obvious too, that in the Christian dispensation, as 
much as in the natural scheme of things, means are made use 
of to accomplish ends. And the observation of this furnishes 
us with the same answer, to objections against the perfection of 
Christianity, as to objections of the like kind, against the con- 
stitution of nature. It shows the credibility, that the things 
objected against, how foolish*^ soever they appear to men, 
may be the very best means of accomplishing the very best ends. 
And their appearing foolishness is no presumption against this, 
in a scheme so greatly beyond our comprehension. j*j* 

III. The credibility that the Christian dispensation may have 
been, all along, carried on by general laws,J| no less than the 
f50urse of nature, may require to be more distinctly made out 
v^onsidcr then, upon what ground it is we say, that the whole 
fcmmon course of nature is carried on according to general fore* 


• j !>hn V. 22, 23. f Matt, xxviii. 18. J 1 Cor. xv. 2f>, 28. 

1 1 Tim iii. 16. || Page 181, &c. ** 1 Cor. i 

if Page 184 it Pages 185, 186. 


236 CHRISTIANITY A SCHEME [I ART II 

ordained laws. We know indeed, several of tlio general laws 
of matter; and a great part of the natural behaviour of living 
agents is reducible to general laws. But we know in a manner 
nothing, by what laws storms and tempests, earthquakes, famine, 
pestilence, become the instruments of destruction to mankind. 
And the laws, by which persons born into the world at such 
a time and place, are of such capacities, geniuses, tempers ; the 
laws, by which thoughts come into our mind, in a multitude of 
cases ; and by which innumerable things happen, of the greatest 
influence upon the affairs and state of the world ; these laws are 
so wholly unknown to us, that we call the events which come 
to pass by them, accidental ; though all reasonable men know 
certainly, that there cannot, in reality, be any such thing as 
chance; and conclude, that the things which have this appear- 
ance, are the result of general laws, and may be reduced into 
them. It is then but an exceeding little way, and in but a very 
few respects, that we can trace up the natural course of things 
before us, to general laws. And it is only from analogy, that 
we conclude the whole of it to be capable of being reduced into 
them ; only from our seeing, that part is so. It is from our 
finding, that the course of nature, in some respects and so far, 
goes on by general laws, that we conclude this of the rest. And 
if that be a just ground for such a conclusion, it is a just ground 
also, if not to conclude, yet to apprehend, to render it supposa- 
ble and credible, which is sufficient for answering objections, 
that God’s miraculous interpositions may have been, all along, 
in like manner, by general laws of wisdom. Thus, that mira- 
culous powers should be exerted at such times, upon such occa- 
zions, in such degrees and manners, and with regard to such 
persons, rather than others ; that the affairs of the world being 
permitted to go on in their natural course so far, should just at 
such a point, have a new direction given them by miraculous 
interpositions; that these interpositions should be exactly in 
such degrees and respects only; all this may have been by 
general laws. These laws are unknown indeed to us ; but no 
more unknown than the laws from whence it is, that some die 
fts soon as they are born, and others live to extreme old age, 
that one man is so superior to another in understanding ; with 
innumerable more things, which, as was before observed, we 
cannot reduce to any laws or rules at all ; though it is taken for 
granted, they are as much reducible to general ones as gravitac 
lion. Now, if the revealed dispensations of Providence, and 


CHAP. IV.] IMPERFEOTLY C<'MPaEnFNrED. 237 

miraculous interpositions, be by general laws, as well as God's 
ordinary government in the course of nature, made known by 
reason and experience ; there is no more reason to expect, that 
every exigence, as it arises, should be provided for by these 
general laws of miraculous interpositions, than that every exi- 
gence in nature should, by the general laws of nature : yet theie 
might be wise and good reasons, that miraculous interpositions 
should be by general laws; and that these laws should not be 
broken in upon, or deviated from, by other miracles. 

Upon the whole then, the appearance of deficiencies anU 
irregularities in nature, is owing to its being a scheme but in 
part made known, and of such a certain particular kind in other 
respects. Now we see no more reason, why the frame and 
course of nature should be such a scheme, than why Christianity 
should. And that the former is such a scheme, renders it 
credible, that the latter, upon supposition of its truth, may be 
30 too. And as it is manifest, that Christianity is a scheme 
revealed but in part, and a scheme in which means are made 
use of to accomplish ends, like to that of nature ; so the credi 
bility, that it may have been all along carried on by general 
laws, no less than the course of nature, has been distinctly 
oroved. And from all this it is beforehand credible that there 
night, I think probable that there would, be the like appearance 
f deficiencies and irregularities in Christianity, as in nature ; 
that is, that Christianity would be liable to the like objections, 
as the frame of nature. And these objections are answered by 
these observations concerning Christianity ; as the like objections 
against the frame of nature, are answered by the like observa- 
tions concerning the frame of nature. 


The objections against Christianity, considered as a matter 
of fact,* having, in general, been obviated in the proceeding 
chapter; and the same considered as made against the wisdom 
and goodness of it, having been obviated in this ; the next thing, 
according to the method proposed, is to show, that the principal 
objections, in particular, against Christianity, may be answered 
by particular and full analogies in nature. And as one of them 
b made against the whole scheme of it together, as just now 
described, I choose to consider it here, rather than in a distmot 


* Page 220, &o 


238 CHRISTIANITY A SCHEME [PART H 

chapter by itself. The thing objected against this scheme of the 
gospel, is, that it seems to suppose, God was reduced to the 
necessity of a long series of intricate means, in order to accom» 
plish his ends, the recovery and salvation of the world ; in like 
sort as men, for want of understanding, or power, not b-eing able 
tv") come at their ends directly, are forced to go round-about 
ways, and make use of many perplexed contrivances to arrive 
at them/^ Now every thing which we see shows the folly of 
^is, considered as an objection against the truth of Christianity. 
For according to our manner of conception, God makes use of 
variety of means, what we often think tedious ones, in the 
natural course of providence, for the accomplishment of all his 
ends. Indeed, it is certain, there is somewhat in this matter 
quite beyond our comprehension ; but the mystery is as great 
in nature as in Christianity. We know what we ourselves aim 
at as final ends ; and what courses we take, merely as means 
conducing to those ends. But we are greatly ignorant how fai 
things are considered by the Author of Nature, under the single 
notion of means and ends ; so as that it may be said, this is 
merely an end, and that merely means, in his regard. And 
whether there be not some peculiar absurdity in our very 
manner of conception, concerning this matter, somewhat con- 
tradictory, arising from our extremely imperfect views of things, 
it is impossible to say. However, thus much is manifest, that 
the whole natural world and government of it, is a scheme, or 
system ; not a fixed, but a progressive one : a scheme, in which 
the operation of various means takes up a great length of time, 
before the ends they tend to can be attained. The change of 
seasons, the ripening of the fruits of the earth, the very history 
of a flower, is an instance of this ; and so is human life. Thus 
vegetable bodies, and those of animals, though possibly formed 
at once, yet grow up by degrees to a mature state. And thus 
rational agents who animate these latter bodies, are naturally 
directed to form, each his own manners and character, by the 
gradual gaining of knowledge and experience, and by a long 
course of action. Our existence is not only successive, as it 
must be of necessity, but one state of our life and being ia 
appointed by God to be a preparation for another ; and that, to 
be the means of attaining to another succeeding one : Infancy 
to childhood; childhood to youth; youth to mature age. Men 
are impatient, and for precipitating things; but the Author of 
Nature appears deliberate throughout his operations; acooi» 


CHAP. IV. j IMPERFECTLY COMPREHENDED. 23S 

plishing his natural ends by slow successive steps.* And there 
is a plan of things beforehand laid out, which, from the nature 
of it, requires various systems of means, as well as length of 
time, in order to the carrying on its several parts into execution. 
Thus, in the daily course of natural providence, Grod operates 
in the very same manner, as in the dispensation of Christianity, 
making one thing subservient to another; this to somewliat 
farther; and so on, through a progressive series of means, 
which extend, both backward and forward, beyond our utmost 
view. Of this manner of operation, every thing we see in the 
course of nature, is as much an instance, as any part of the 
Christian dispensation. 

* [“ We shall find that all the great developments of the moral 
being have resulted in the advantage of society, and that all the great 
developments of the social condition have raised the character of 
humanity. The movement takes its peculiar character from which- 
ever of the two facts predominates and lends its lustre. 

“ Sometimes, long intervals of time, a thousand transformations and 
obstacles, occur before the second fact is developed, and comes as it 
were to complete the civilization which the first had commenced. 
But close observation convinces us of the bond which unites them. 
The ways of Providence are not confined within narrow limits ; he 
hurries not himself to display to-day the consequence of the principle 
that he yesterday laid down ; he will draw it out in the lapse of ages, 
when the hour is come: and even according to our reasoning, logic is 
not the less sure because it is slow. Providence is unconcerned as to 
time ; his march (if I may be allowed the simile) is like that of the 
fabulous deities of Homer through space ; he takes a step, and ages 
have elapsed. How long a time, how many events, before the regene- 
ration of the moral man by Christianity exercised its great and 
legitimate influence upon the regeneration of the social state ! It has 
succeeded, however; who can at this day gainsay it?’’ — (Jnioi’i 
LixtuT^ on Civilization in Europe^ Lecture 1.] 


240 


THE APPOINTMFJJT OF 


[■pABT n 


CHAP. V. 

Of the particular System of Christianity ; the Appointment oj 
a Mediator, and the Redemption of the World by him. 

There is not, I think, any thing relating to Christianity 
which has been more objected against than the mediation of 
Christ, in some or other of its parts. Yet, upon thorough con- 
sideration, there seems nothing less justly liable to it. For, 

I. The whole analogy of nature removes all imagined pre- 

sumption against the general notion of “ a Mediator between 
God and man.*’"^ For we find all living creatures are brought 
into the world, and their life in infancy is preserved, by the 
instrumentality of others; and every satisfaction of it, some 
way or other, is bestowed by the like means. So that the 
visible government which God exercises over the world, is by 
the instrumentality and mediation of others. And how far his 
invisible government be, or be not so, it is impossible to deter- 
mine at all by reason. And the supposition that part of it is 
BO, appears, to say the least, altogether as credible as the con- 
trary. There is then no sort of objection, from the light of 
nature, against the general notion of a mediator between God 
and man, considered as a doctrine of Christianity, or as an ap- 
pointment in this dispensation; since we find by experience, 
that God does appoint mediators, to be the instruments of good 
and evil to us, the instruments of his justice and his mercy. 
And the objection here referred to is urged, not against media- 
tion in that high, eminent, and peculiar sense, in which Christ 
is our mediator ; but absolutely against the whole notion itself 
of a mediator at all. « 

II. As we must suppose that the world is under the proper 
moral government of God, or in a state of religion, before we 
can enter into consideration of the revealed doctrine concerning 
the redemption of it by Christ ; so that supposition is here to 
be distinctly taken notice of. Now the divine moral govern 


* 1 Tim. ii. 5. 


CUAP. V.J 


A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER. 


241 


ment wliicli religion teaches us, implies, that the consequence 
of vice shall be misery, in some future state, by the righteoui 
judgment of ^rod. That such consequent punishment shall 
take effect by ms appointment, is necessarily implied. But as 
it is not in any sort to be supposed that we are made acquainted 
with all the ends or reasons for which it is fit future punish- 
ments should be inflicted, or why God has appointed such and 
such consequent misery should follow vice ; and as we arc alto 
gether m the dark, how or in what manner it shall follow, by 
what immediate occasions, or by the instrumentality of what 
means ; there is no absurdity in supposing, it may follow in a 
way analogous to that, in which many miseries follow such and 
such courses oi action at present; poverty, sickness, infamy, 
untimely death by diseases, death from the hands of civil justice. 
There is no absurdity in supposing future punishment may 
follow wickedness of course, as we speak, or in the way of 
natural consequence, from God’s original constitution of the 
world ; from the nature he has given us, and from the condition 
in which he places us ; or in a like manner, as a person rashly 
trifling upon a precipice, in the way of natural consequence, 
falls down; in the way of natural consequence, breaks his 
limbs, suppose; in the way of natural consequence of this, 
without help, perishes. 

Some good men may perhaps be offended with hearing it 
spoken of as a supposable thing, that the future punishments of 
wickedness may be in the way of natural consequence ; as if 
this were taking the execution of justice out of the hands of 
God, and giving it to nature. But they should remember, that 
when things come to pass according to the course of nature, this 
does not hinder them from being his doing, who is the God of 
Nature ; and that the Scripture ascribes those punishments to 
divine justice, which are known to be natural ; and which must 
be called so, when distinguished from such as are miraculous. 
But after all, this supposition, or rather this way of speaking, 
is here made use of only by way of illustration of the subject 
before us. For since it must be admitted, that the future pun- 
ishment of wickedness is not a matter of arbitrary appointment, 
but of reason, equity, and justice; it comes, for aught I see, to 
the same thing, whether it is supposed to be inflicted in a way 
analogous to that in which the temporal punishments of vico 
and folly are inflicted, or in any other way. And though there 
were a difteicnee, it is allowable in the present case, to mak«» 
21 


242 


THE APPOINTMEWT OF 


fPART n 


fchis supposition, plainly not an incredible one, that future pun* 
ishment may follow wickedness in the way of natural conse* 
quence, or according to some general laws of government already 
established in the universe. 

III. Upon this supposition, or even without it, we may 
observe somewhat, much to the present purpose, in the constitu* 
tion of nature, or appointments of Providence : the provision 
which is made, that all the bad natural consequences of men's 
actions should not always actually follow ; or that such bad con- 
sequences, as, according to the settled course of things, would 
inevitably have followed, if not prevented, should, in certain 
degrees, be prevented. We are apt presumptuously to imagine, 
that the world might have been so constituted, as that there 
would not have been any such thing as misery or evil. On the 
contrary, we find the Author of Nature permits it. But then 
he has provided reliefs, and, in many cases, perfect remedies foi 
it, after some pains and difficulties ; reliefs and remedies even 
for that evil, which is the fruit of our own misconduct ; and 
which, in the course of nature, would have continued, and ended 
in our destruction, but for such remedies. And this is an in- 
stance both of severity and of indulgence, in the constitution of 
nature. Thus all the bad consequences, now mentioned, of a 
man's trifling upon a precipice, might be prevented. And though 
all were not, yet some of them might, by proper interposition, 
if not rejected ; by another's coming to the rash man’s relief, 
with his own laying hold on that relief, in such sort as the case 
required. Persons may do a great deal themselves towards pre- 
venting the bad consequences of their follies ; and more may be 
done by themselves, together with the assistance of others, their 
fellow-creatures ; which assistance nature requires and prompts 
us to. This is the general constitution of the world. Now sup- 
pose it had been so constituted, that after such actions were 
done, as were foreseen naturally to draw after them misery to 
the doer, it should have been no more in human power to have 
prevented that natural consequent misery, in any instance, than 
it is in all ; no one can say, wheth^ such a more severe consti- 
tution of things might not yet have been really good. But 
that, on the contrary, provision is made by nature, that we may 
tad do, to so great degree, prevent the bad natural effects of our 
follies ; this may be called mercy, or compassion, in the original 
constitution of the world; compassion as distinguished from 
goodness in general. And, the whole known constitution and 


CHAP V.J A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER 243 

Dourse of tliing3 affording us instances of such compassion, it 
would be according to the analogy of nature to hope, tliat, how« 
ever ruinous the natural consequences of vice might be, from 
the general laws of God’s government over the universe, yet 
provision might be made, possibly might have been originally 
made, for preventing those ruinous consequences from inevitably 
following ; at least from following universally, and in all cases. 

'Hlany, I am sensible, will wonder at finding this made s 
■juestion, or spoken of as in any degree doubtful. The gene- 
rality of mankind are so far from having that awful sense of 
things, which the present state of vice and misery and dark- 
rxss seems to make but reasonable, that they have scarce any 
apprehension, or thought at all, about this matter, any way , 
and some serious persons may have spoken unadvisedly con 
cerning it. But let us observe, what we experience to be, and 
what, from the very constitution of nature, cannot but be, the 
consequences of irregular and disorderly behaviour; even of 
such rashness, wilfulness, neglects, as we scarce call vicious. 
Now it is natur-al to apprehend, that the bad consequences of 
irregularity will be gi'eater, in proportion as the irregularity is 
so. And there is no comparison between these irregularithis, 
and the greater instances of vice, or a dissolute profligate dis- 
regard to all religion ; if there be any thing at all in religion. 
For consider what it is for creatures, moral agents, presumptu- 
ously to introduce that confusion and misery into the kingdom 
of God, which mankind have in fact introduced ; to blasphe^ne 
the sovereign Lord of all ; to contemn his authority ; to be in- 
jurious to the degree they are, to their fellow-creatures, the 
creatures of God. Add that the effects of vice, in the present 
world, are often extreme misery, irretrievable ruin, and even 
death : and upon putting all this together, it will appear, that 
as no one can say, in what degree fatal the unprevented conse- 
quences of vice may be, according to the general rule of Divine 
government; so it is by no means intuitively certain, how far 
these consequences could possibly, in the nature of the thing, be 
prevented, consistently with the eternal rule of right, or with 
what is, in fact, the moral constitution of nature. However, 
there would be large ground to hope, that the universal govern- 
ment was not so severely strict, but that there was room for 
pardon, or for having those penal consequences prevented. Yet, 
IV. There seems no probability, that any thing we could do, 
would alone and of itself prevent them ; prevent their follow 


244 THE APPOINTMENT OF [PART li 

ing, or being inflicted. But one would think, at leait, it were 
Impossible that the contrary should be thought certain. For 
we are not acquainted with the whole of the case. We are not 
informed of all the reasons, which render it fit that future pun- 
ishments should be inflicted ; and therefore cannot know, whe- 
ther any thing we could do would make such an alteration, as 
to render it fit that they should be remitted. We do not know, 
what the whole natural, or appointed consequences of vice are, 
nor in what way they would follow, if not prevented; and 
therefore can in no sort say, whether v/e could do any thing, 
which would be suflBcient to prevent them. Our ignorance 
being thus manifest, let us recollect the analogy of nature, or 
providence. For though this may be but a slight ground to 
raise a positive opinion upon, in this matter ; yet it is sufl&cient 
to answer a mere arbitrary assertion, without any kind of evi- 
dence urged by way of objection against a doctrine, the proof 
of which is not reason, but revelation. Consider then : people 
ruin their fortunes by extravagance ; they bring diseases upon 
themselves by excess ; they incur the penalties of civil laws, and 
surely civil government is natural; will sorrow for these follies 
past, and behaving well for the future, alone and of itself, pre- 
vent the natural consequences of them ? On the contrary, 
men^s natural abilities of helping themselves are often impaired; 
or if not, yet they are forced to be beholden to the assistance of 
others, upon several accounts, and in different ways : assistance 
which they would have had no occasion for, had it not been for 
their misconduct; but which, in the disadvantageous condition 
they have reduced themselves to, is absolutely necessary to 
their recovery, and retrieving their affairs. Now since this is 
our case, cousidering ourselves merely as inhabitants of this 
world, and as having a temporal interest here, under the natural 
government of God, which however has a great deal moral in 
it ; why is it not supposable, that this may be our case also, in 
our more important capacity, as under his perfect moral govern- 
ment, and having a more general and future interest depending? 
[f we have misbehaved in this higher capacity, and rendered 
ourselves obnoxious to the future punishment which God has 
annexed to vice ; it is plainly credible, that behaving well for 
the time to come, may be — not useless, God forbid — but wholly 
insufficient, alone and of itse)f, to prevent that punishment ; or 
to put us in the condition which we should have been in, had 
we preserved our innocence 


CHAP. V.J 


A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER 


245 


And though we ought to reason with all reverence, whenevei 
we reason concerning the Divine conduct, yet it may bo added, 
that it is clearly contrary to all our notions of government, aa 
well as to what is, in fact, the general constitution of nature, to 
suppose that doing well for the future, should, in all cases, pre- 
vent all the judicial bad consequences of having done evil, or 
all the punishment annexed to disobedience. And we have 
manifestly nothing from whence to determine, in what degree, 
nd in what cases, reformation would prevent this punishment, 
c^en supposing that it would in some. And though the eflicacy 
of repentance itself alone, to prevent what mankind had rendered 
themselves obnoxious to, and recover what they had forfeited, is 
now insisted upon, in opposition to Christianity; yet, by the 
general prevalence of propitiatory sacrifices over the heathen 
world, this notion, of repentance alone being sufficient to expiate 
guilt, appears to be contrary to the general sense of mankind. 

Upon the whole then; had the laws, the general laws of 
God’s government, been permitted to operate, without any in- 
terposition in our behalf, the future punishment, for aught wo 
know to the contrary, or have any reason to think, must inevi 
tably have followed, notwithstanding any thing we could have 
done to prevent it. Now, 

V. In this darkness, or this light of nature, call it which you 
please, revelation comes in ; confirms every doubting fear which 
could enter into the heart of man concerning the future unpre- 
vented consequence of wickedness ; supposes the world to be in 
a state of ruin, (a supposition which seems the very ground of 
the Christian dispensation, and which, if not provable by reason, 
yet it is in nowise contrary to it) ; teaches us too, that the rules 
of Divine government are such, as not to admit of pardon im- 
mediately and directly upon repentance, or by the sole efficacy 
of it : but then teaches at the same time, what nature might 
justly have hoped, that the moral government of the universe 
was not so rigid, but that there was room for an interposition to 
avert the fatal consequences of vice ; which therefore, by this 
means, does admit of pardon. Revelation teaches us, that the 
unknown laws of God’s more general government, no less than 
the particular laws by which we experience he governs us at 
present, are compassionate, * as well as good, in the more genera] 
potion of goodness; and that he hath mercifully provided, that 


21 * 


Page 242, &c. 


•246 


THE APPOINTMENT OF 


[PART I*. 

there should be an interposition to prevent the destruction of 
human kind, whatever that destruction unprevented would have 
been. “ God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten. 
Son, that whosoever believcth,’’ not, to be sure, in a speculative, 
but in a practical sense, “ that whosoever believeth in him should 
not perish gave his Son in the same way of goodness to the 
world, as he affords particular persons the friendly assistance of 
their fellow -creatures, when without it, their temporal ruiu 
would bo the certain consequence of their follies ; in the same 
way of goodness, I say, though in a transcendent and infinitely 
higher degree. And the Son of G od loved us, and gave 
himself for us,'^’ with a love which he himself compares to that 
of human friendship ; though, in this case, all comparisons must 
fall infinitely short of the thing intended to be illustrated by 
them. He interposed in such a manner, as was necessary and 
efiectual to prevent that execution of justice upon sinners, which 
God had appointed should otherwise have been executed upon 
them; or in such a manner, as to prevent that punishment from 
actually following, which, according to the general laws of Divine 
government, must have followed the sins of the world, had it 
Eot been for such interposition. f 

If any thing here said should appear, upon first thought, in- 


* John iii. 16. 

I It cannot, I suppose, be imagined, even by the most cursory 
reader, that it is, in any sort, affirmed, or implied, in any thing said 
tn this Chapter, that none can have the benefit of the general redemp- 
tion, but such as have the advantage of being made acquainted with 
it in the present life. But it may be needful to mention, that several 
questions, which have been brought into the subject before us, and 
determined, are not in the least entered into here ; questions which 
have been, I :*ear, rashly determined, and perhaps with equal rash- 
ness, contrarj ways. For instance : Whether God could have saved 
the world by other means than the death of Christ, consistently with 
the general laws of his government? And, had not Christ come into 
the world, what would have been the future condition of the better 
sort of men; those just persons over the face of the earth, for whom 
Manasses, in his prayer, asserts repentance was not appointed ? The 
meaning of the first of these questions is greatly ambiguous ; ana 
neither of them can pi’operly be answered, without going upon that 
infinitely absurd supposition, that we know the whole of the case. 
And perhaps, the very inquiry. What would have followed, if God haa 
%ot done as he has ? may have in it some very great impropriety ; and 
ought not to be carried on any farther, than is necessary to help ocj 
partial and inadequate. conception of things. 


jaAP. V.J A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER. . 21:7 

consistent with Divine goodness, a second, T am persuaded, will 
entirely remove that appearance. For were we to suppose the 
constitution of things to be such, as that the whole creation must 
have perished, had it not been for somewhat which God had 
appointed should be, in order to prevent that ruin ; even this 
supposition would not be inconsistent, in any degree, with the 
most absolutely perfect goodness. But still it may be thought, 
that this whole manner of* treating the subject before us, sup- 
poses mankind to be naturally in a very strange state. And 
truly so it does. But it is not Christianity which has put iia 
intc this state. Whoever will consider the manifold miseries, 
and the extreme wickedness of the world ; that the best have 
great wrongnesses within themselves, which they complain of, 
and endeavour to amend ; but that the generality grow more 
profligate and corrupt with age ; that heathen moralists thought 
the present state to be a state of punishment ; and what might 
be added, that the earth our habitation, has the appearance of 
being a ruin ; whoever, I say, will consider all these, and some 
other obvious things, will think he has little reason to object 
against the Scripture account, that mankind is in a state of 
degradation ; against this being the fact : how difScult soever he 
may think it to account for, or even to form a distinct concep- 
tion of, the occasions and circumstances of it. But that the 
erime of our first parents was the occasion of our being placed 
m a more disadvantageous condition, is a thing throughout, and 
particularly analogous to what we see, in the daily course of 
natural providence ; as the recovery of the world, by the inter- 
position of Christ, has been shown to be so in general. 

VI. The particular manner in which Christ interposed in the 
redemption of the world, or his ofldee as Mediator, in the largest 
sense, between God and man^ is thus represented to us in the 
Scripture : He is the light of the world the revealer of the 
will of God in the most eminent sense : he is a propitiatory 
sacrifice the Lamb of God J and as he voluntarily offered 
himself up, he is styled our High-priest.§ And, which seeraa 
of peculiar weight, he is described beforehand, in the Old Testa- 

* John i. and viii. 12. 

f Rom. iii. 25, and v. 11 ; 1 Cor. v. 7 ; Ephes. v. 2; 1 Jehn ii 2j 
Matth. xxvi. 28. 

X John i. 29, 36, and throughout the Book of Revelation. 

H Throughout the Epistle to the Hebrews. 


248 THE APPOINTMENT OP [PART O 

ment, under the same characters of a priest, and an expiatorj 
rictim.* And whereas it is objected, that all this is merely by 
way of allusion to the sacrifices of the JMosaic law, the apostle, 
on the contrary, aflarms, that ‘‘ the law was a shadow of good 
things io come^ and not the very image of the things and 
lhat the ^fmests that offer gifts according to the Law — serve 
unto the example and shadow of heavenly things, as Moses was 
idmonished of God, where he was about to make the tabernacle. 
For see,’’ saith he, ^‘that thou make all things according la 
he pattern showed io thee in the mount J i. e. the Levitical 
priesthood was a shadow of the priesthood of Christ, in like 
manner as the tabernacle made by Moses was according to that 
showed him in the mount. The priesthood of Christ, and the 
tabernacle in the mount, were the originals : of the former of 
which, the Levitical priesthood was a type ; and of the latter, 
the tabernacle made by Moses was a copy. The doctrine of 
this epistle then plainly is, that the legal sacrifices were allu- 
sions to the great and final atonement to be made by the 
blood of Christ; and not that this was an allusion to those. 
Nor can any thing be more express and determinate, than 
the following passage : “ It is not possible that the blood of 
bulls and of goats should take away sin. Wherefore, whert 
he cometh into the world, he saith, Sacrifee and of < ring f 
i. e. of bulls and of goats, “ thou wouldst not, but a body hast 
thou prepared me — Lo, 1 come to do thy will, O God. — By 
which will we are sanctified, through the offering of the bodp 
of Jesus Christ once for all.”% And to add one passage more 
of the like kind : Christ was once offered to bear the sins oj 
many ; and unto them that look for him shall he appear the 
second time, without sin i. e. without bearing sin, as he did 
at his first coming, by being an ofiering for it; without having 
jur iniquities again laid upon him, without being any more a 
sin-offering : — “ unto them that look for him shall he appear 
the second time, without sin unto salvation.”\\ Nor do the in- 
spired writers at all confine themselves to this manner of speak- 
ing concerning the satisfaction of Christ, but declare an efficacy 
in what he did and suffered for us, additional to, and beyond 


* Isa. liii. ; Dan. ix 24; Psal. cx. 4. 
\ Heb. viii. 4, 5. 

U Heb. ix. 28. 


f Heb. X. 1. 

§ Heb. X 4, 5, 7, 9, aO 


CHAP. V.] A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER. 24 & 

mere instruction, example, and government, in great variety cf 
expression: “ That Jesus should die for that nation,” the 
Jews; and not for that nation only, hut that also,” plainly 
by the efficacy of his death, he should gather together in one 
the children of God that were scattered abroad:”^ that ^^he 
tufferedfor sins, the just for the unjust :’^j' that ^^he gave hit 
life, himself a ransom J that “ we are bought, bought with a 
price § that “ he redeemed us with his blood : redeemed m 
from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us:” || that 
^he is our advocate, intercessor, and propitiation:”^ that 

he was made perfect (or consummate) through sufferings ; 
and being thus made perfect, he became the author of salva- 
tion :” ** that God was in Christ, reconciling the world ta 
himself, by the death of nis Son by the cross ; not imputing 
their trespasses unto them ff and, lastly, that “ through 
death he destroyed him that had the power of death” \\ 
Christ, then, having thus humbled himself, and become obe- 
dient to death, even the death of the cross, God also hath 
highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above 
every name ; hath given all things into his hands ; hath com- 
mitted all judgment unto him ; that all men should honour the 
Son, even as they honour the Father ” §§ For, “ worthy is the 
Lamb that was slain, to receive power, and riches, and 
wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing! 
And every creature which is in heaven, and on the earth, heard 
J saying. Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto 
him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb, for ever 
and ever !” |||| 

These passages of Scripture seem to comprehend and express 
the chief parts of Christ’s office, as mediator between G-od and 
man, so far, I mean, as the nature of this his office is reveale-d ; 
and it is usually treated of by divines under three heads. 

» John xi. 51, 52. f 1 Pet. iii. 18. 

J Matt. XX. 28 ; Mark x. 45 ; 1 Tim. ii. 6. 

g 2 Pet. ii. 1 ; Rev. xiv. 4 ; 1 Cor. vi. 20. 

II 1 Pet. i. 19; Rev. v. 9; Gal. iii. 13. 

^ Heb. vii. 26; 1 John ii. 1, 2. ** Heb. ii. 10, v. 9. 

fl- 2 Cor. V. 19; Rom. v. 10; Eph. ii. 16. 

f J Heb. ii. 14. See also a remarkable passage in the book of Job 
ixxiii. 24. 

II Phil. ii. 8, 9; John iii. 35, and v. 22. 23. Jj|| Rev v. 12, 1? 


^50 


THE APPOINTMENT OP 


[PART It. 


First, He was, hy way of eminence, the Prophet : “ that Pro- 
phet that should come into the world”^' to declare the divine 
will. He published anew the law of nature which men had 
corrupted ] and the very knowledge of which, to some degree, 
was lost among them. He taught mankind, taught us authori- 
tatively, to ^^live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present 
»orld,” in expectation of the future judgment of God. He 
eonfirmed the truth of this moral system of nature, and gave 
os additional evidence of it, the evidence of testimony.f He 
distinctly revealed the manner in which God would be wor- 
jhipped, the efficacy of repentance, and the rewards and punish 
mcnts of a future life. Thus he was a prophet, in a sense in 
which no other ever was. To which is to be added, that he set 
us a perfect example, that we should follow his steps.” 

Secondly, He has a kingdom, which is not of this loorld.” 
He founded a church, to be to mankind a standing memorial of 
religion, and invitation to it; which he promised to be with 
always, even to the end. He exercises an invisible government 
over it, himself, and by his Spirit ; over that part of it which is 
militant here on earth, a government of discipline, ‘‘for the 
perfecting of the saints, for the edifying of his body ; till we 
all come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the 
Son of God, unto a perfect man., unto the measure of the stature 
of the fulness of Christ.”^ Of this church, all persons scat- 
lered over the world, who live in obedience to his laws, are 
members. For these he is gone to prepare a place, and will 
come again to receive them unto himself that where he is, there 
they may be also ; and reign loith him for ever and ever ;§ and 
likewise “ to take vengeance on them that knoio not God, and 
obey not his gospel.’^\\ 

Against these parts of Christ’s office, I find no objections but 
what are fully obviated in the beginning of this chapter. 

Lastly, Christ offered himself a propitiatory sacrifice, and 
made atonement for the sins of the world; which is mentioned 
last, in regard to what is objected against it. Sacrifices of expi- 
ation were commanded the Jews, and obtained amongst most 
other nations, from tradition, whose original probably was reve- 
lation. And they were continually repeated, both occasionally, 
and at the returns of stated times; and made up great part of 


■* John vi. 14. f Page 200. j Eph. iv. 12, 18. 

^ John xiv 2, 3. Rev. iii. 21, and xi. 15. U 2 Thess. i. 8. 


CHAF V.] A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER. 251 

ihe external religion of mankind. But now once in the end 
oj the icorld Christ appeared^ to put away sin hy the sacrifice 
of himself.’'* And this sacrifice was in the highest degree, and 
with the most extensive influence, of that eflBcacj for obtaining 
pardon of sin, which the heathens may be supposed to have 
thought their sacrifices to jave been, and which the Jewish 
sacrifices really were in some degree, and with regard to some 
persons. 

How and in what particular way, it had this efficacy, there 
lie not waiting persons who have endeavoured to explain; but 
£ cannot find that the Scripture has explained it. We seem to 
be very much in the dark, concerning the manner in which the 
ancients understood atonement to be made, i. e. pardon to be 
obtained by sacrifices. And if the Scripture has, as surely it 
has, left this matter of the satisfaction of Christ mysterious, 
left somewhat in it unrevealed, all conjectures about it must be, 
if not evidently absurd, yet at least uncertain. Nor has any 
one reason to complain for want of farther information, unless 
he can show his claim to it. 

Some have endeavoured to explain the efficacy of what Christ 
has done and suffered for us, beyond what the Scripture has 
authorized ; others, probably because they could not explain it, 
have been for taking it away, and confining his office as Re- 
deemer of the world, to his instruction, example, and government 
of the church. Whereas, the doctrine of the gospel appears to 
be, not only that he taught the efficacy of repentance, but ren- 
dered it of the efficacy which it is, by what he did and suffered 
for us : that he obtained for us the benefit of having our repent- 
ance accepted unto eternal life : not only that he revealed to 
sinners, that they were in a capacity of salvation, and how they 
might obtain it ; but moreover, that he put them info this capa- 
city of salvation, by what he did and suffered for them ; put us 
into a capacity of escaping future punishment, and obtaining 
future happiness. And it is our wisdom thankfully to accept 
the benefit, by performing the conditions upon which it is offered 
on our part, without disputing how it was procured on his. For, 

VII. Since we neither know by what means punishment in 
future state would have followed wickedness in this ; nor in 
what manner it would have been inflicted, had it not been pre* 
Touted; nor all the reasons why its infliction would have beer 


« Heb. ix. 26. 


252 


THE APPOINTMENT OP 


LPAIIT II 


ue-^dful ; nor the particular nature of that state of ha|,pinesg 
which Christ is gone to prepare for his disciples ; and since we 
are ignorant how far anything we could do, would, alone and of 
itself, have been effectual to prevent that punishment to which 
we were obnoxious, and recover that happiness which we bad 
forfeited; it is most evident we are not judges, antecedently to 
revelation, whether a mediator was or was not necessary to obtain 
those ends ; to prevent that future punishment, and bring man- 
Vmd to the final happiness of their nature. And for the very 
same reasons, upon supposition of the necessity of a mediator, 
we are no more judges, antecedently to revelation, of the whole 
nature of his office, or the several parts of which it consists : of 
what was fit and requisite to be assigned him, in order to accom- 
plish the ends of divine Providence in the appointment. And 
from hence it follows, that to object against the expediency or 
usefulness of particular things revealed to have been done or 
suffered by him, because we do not see how they were conducive 
to those ends, is highly absurd. Yet nothing is more common 
to be met with than this absurdity. But if it be acknowledged 
beforehand, that we are not judges in the case, it is evident that 
no objection can, with any shadow of reason, be urged against 
any particular part of Christ’s mediatorial office revealed in 
Scripture, till it can be shown positively, not to be requisite or 
conducive to the ends proposed to be accomplished ; or that it 
is in itself unreasonable. 

And there is one objection made against the satisfaction of 
Christ, which looks to be of this positive kind : that the doc- 
trine of his being appointed to suffer for the sins of the world, 
represents Grod as being indifferent whether he punished the 
innocent or the guilty. Now from the foregoing observations 
we may see ^he extreme slightness of all such objections, and 
(though it is most certain all who make them do not see the 
consequence) that they conclude altogether as much against 
God’s whole original constitution of nature, and whole daily 
course of divine Providence, in the government of the world, 
i. e. against the whole seheme of Theism and the whole notion 
of religion, as against Christianity. For the world is a consti- 
tution, or system, whose parts have a mutual reference to each 
•)ther; and there is a scheme of things gradually carrying on, 
^lled the course of nature, to the carrying on of which God 
has appointed us, in various ways to contribute. And when, 
in the daily course of natural providence, ii is appointed that 


CHAP. V.] A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER. 253 

innocent people should suffer for the faults of the guilty, this is 
liable to the very same objejtion as the instance wo are now 
considering. The infinitely greater importance of that appoint* 
ment of Christianity which is objected against, does not hinde; 
but it may be, as it plainly is, an appointment of the very same 
kind with what the world afibrds us daily examples of. Nay, 
if there were any force at all in the objection, it would be 
Ktronger, in one respect, against natural providence, than against 
Christianity; because under the former, we are in many cases 
©omii anded, and even necessitated, whether we will or not, to 
suficr for the faults of others ; whereas the sufferings of Christ 
were voluntary. The world’s being under the righteous govern* 
ment of God does indeed imply, that finally, and upon the 
whole, every one shall receive according to his personal deserts : 
and the general doctrine of the whole Scripture is, that this 
shall be the completion of the divine government. But during 
the progress, and for aught we know, even in order to the com- 
pletion of this moral scheme, vicarious punishments may bo 
fit, and absolutely necessary. Men, by their follies, run them- 
selves into extreme distress; into difficulties which would bo 
absolutely fatal to them, were it not for the interposition and 
assistance of others. God commands by the law of nature that 
we afford them this assistance, in many cases where we cannot 
do it without very great pains, and labour, and sufferings to 
ourselves. And we see in what variety of ways one person’s 
sufferings contribute to the relief of another; and how, or by 
what particular means, this comes to pass, or follows, from the 
constitution and laws of nature, which come under our notice : 
and being familiarized to it, men are not shocked with it. So 
that the reason of their insisting upon objections of the fore- 
going kind, against the satisfaction of Christ, is either that they 
do not consider God’s settled and uniform appointments as his 
appointments at all, or else they forget that vicarious punish • 
ment is a providential appointment of every day’s experience ; 
and then, from their being unacquainted with the more general 
laws of nature, or divine government over the world, and not 
seeing how the sufferings of Christ could contribute to the 
redemption of it, unless by arbitrary and tyrannical will, they 
conclude his sufferings could not contribute to it any other way. 
And yet, what has been often alleged in justification of this 
doctrine, even from the apparent natural tendency of this method 
of our redemption — its tendency to vindicate the authority cf 
22 


254 


THE APPOINTMENT OF 


[PART II 

God’s laws, and deter his creatures from sin ; this has never yet 
been answered, and is, I think, plainly unanswerable : though 
I am far from thinking it an account of the whole of the case. 
But without taking this into consideration, it abundantly appears, 
from the observations above made, that this objection is not an 
objection against Christianity, but against the whole general 
constitution of nature. And if it were to be considered as an 
objection against Christianity, or, considering it as it is, an objec- 
aon against the constitution of nature, it amounts to no more 
jii conclusion than this, that a divine appointment cannot be 
necessary or expedient, because the objector does not discern it 
to be so ; though he must own that the nature of the case is 
such, as renders- him incapable of judging whether it be so or 
not ; or of seeing it to be necessary, though it were so. 

It is indeed a matter of great patience to reasonable men, to 
find people arguing in this manner, objecting against the credi- 
bility of such particular things revealed in Scripture, that they 
do not see the necessity or expediency of them. For though 
it is highly right, and the most pious exercise of our under- 
standing, to inquire with due reverence into the ends and reasons 
of God’s dispensations ; yet when those reasons are concealed, 
to argue from our ignorance, that such dispensations cannot be 
from God, is infinitely absurd. The presumption of this kind 
of objections seems almost lost in the folly of them. And the 
folly of them is yet greater, when they are urged, as usually 
they are, against things in Christianity analogous, or like to those 
natural dispensations of Providence, which are matter of expe- 
rience. Let reason be kept to ; and if any part of the Scripture 
account of the redemption of the world by Christ, can be shown 
to be really contrary to it, let the Scripture, in the name of 
God, be given up : but let not such poor creatures as we go on 
objecting against an infinite scheme, that we do not see the 
necessity or usefulness of all its parts, and call this reasoning ; 
and, which still farther heightens the absurdity in the present 
case, parts which we are not actively concerned in. For it may 
be worth mentioning. 

Lastly, That not only the reason of the thing, but the whole 
analogy of nature, should teach us, not to expect to have the 
Uke information concerning the Divine conduct, as concerning 
our own duty. ' God instructs us by experience, (for it is not 
reason, but experience, which instructs us,) what good or bad 
consequences will follow from our acting in such and such 


CnAP. V.J A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER. 255 

manners ; and by this he directs us how we are to behave our 
selves. But, though we are sufficiently instructed for the 
common purposes of life, yet it is but an almost infinitely small 
part of natural providence which we are at all let into. The 
Base is the same with regard to revelation. The doctrine of a 
Mediator between God and man, against which it is objected, 
that the expediency of some things in it is not underetood^ 
relates only to what was done on God’s part in the appoint* 
ment, and on the Mediator’s in the execution of it. For what 
is required of us, in consequence of this gracious dispensation, 
is another subject, in which none can complain for want of in- 
formation. The constitution of the world, and God’s natural 
government over it, is all mystery, as much as the Christian 
dispensation. Yet under the first, he has given men all things 
pertaining to life; and under the other, all things pertaining 
unto godliness. And it may be added, that there is nothing 
hard to be accounted for, in any of the common precepts of 
Christianity ; though if there were, surely a Divine command is 
abundantly sufficient to lay us under the strongest obligations to 
obedience. But the fact is, that the reasons of all the Christian 
precepts are evident. Positive institutions are manifestly neces- 
sary to keep up and propagate religion amongst mankind. And 
our duty to Christ, the internal and external worship of him, 
this part of the religion of the gospel manifestly arises out of 
what he has done and suffered, his authority and dominion, and 
the 'elation which he is revealed to stand in to us.* 




256 


REVELATION NOT UNIVERSAL. 




CHAP. VI. 

Of the IVani of Universality in Revelation ; and oj the si. p 
posed Deficiency in the Proof of it. 

It has been thought by some persons, that if the evidence of 
revelation appears doubtful, this itself turns into a positive argu- 
ment against it ; because it cannot be supposed, that, if it were 
true, it would be left to subsist upon doubtful evidence. And 
the objection against revelation, from its not being universal, ia 
often insisted upon as of great weight. 

Now the weakness of these opinions may be shown, by ob- 
serving the suppositions on which they are founded, which are 
really such as these : — that it cannot be thought Grod would 
have bestowed any favour at all upon us, unless in the degree 
which we think he might, and which, we imagine, would be 
most to our particular advantage ; and also, that it cannot be 
thought he would bestow a favour upon any, unless he bestowed 
the same upon all : suppositions which we find contradicted, not 
by a few instances in Grod^s natural government of the world, 
but by the general analogy of nature together. 

Persons who speak of the evidence of religion as doubtful, 
and of this supposed doubtfulness as a positive argument against 
it, should be put upon considering, what that evidence indeed 
is, which they act upon with regard to their temporal interests. 
For, it is not only extremely difficult, but in many cases abso- 
lutely impossible, to balance pleasure and pain, satisfaction and 
uneasiness, so as to be able to say on which side the overplus 
is. There are the like difficulties and impossibilities, in making 
the due allowances for a change of temper and taste, for satiety, 
disgusts, ill health; any of which render men incapable of en- 
joying, after they have obtained, what they most eagerly de- 
sired, Numberless too are the accidents, besides that one of 
untimely death, which may even probably disappoint the best 
concerted schemes ; and strong objections are often seen to lie 
against them, not to be removed or answered, but which seem 
overbalanced by reasons on the other side ; sc as that the cer- 


257 


CHAP. VI.] SUPPOSED DEPrCIENCY IN ITS PROOF. 

tain difficulties and dangers of the pursuit are, by every one, 
thought justly disregarded, upon account of the appearinjj 
greater advantages in case of success, though there be but little 
probability of it. Lastly, Every one observes our liableness, if 
we be not upon our guard, to be deceived by the falsehood of 
men, and the false appearances of things ; and this danger must 
bt greatly increased, if there be a strong bias within, suppose 
from indulged passion, to favour the deceit. Hence arises that 
great uncertainty and doubtfulness of proof, wherein our tem- 
poral interest really consists ] what are the most probable means 
of attaining it; and whether those means will eventually bo 
successful. And numberless instances there are, in the daily 
course of life, in which all men think it reasonable to engage in 
pursuits, though the probability is greatly against succeeding; 
and to make such provision for themselves, as it is supposable 
they may have occasion for, though the plain acknowledged 
probability is, that they never shall. Then those who think 
the objection against revelation, from its light not being uni- 
versal, to be of weight, should observe, that the Author of 
Nature, in numberless instances, bestows that upon some, 
which he docs not upon others, who seem equally to stand in 
need of it. Indeed, he appears to bestow all his gifts, with the 
most promiscuous variety, among creatures of the same species: 
health and strength, capacities of prudence and of knowledge, 
means of improvement, riches, and all external advantages. 
And as there are not any two men found of exactly like shape 
and features, so, it is probable, there are not any two of an ex- 
actly like constitution, temper, and situation, with regard to the 
goods and evils of life. Yet, notwithstanding these uncertain- 
ties and varieties, God does exercise a natural government over 
the world ; and there is such a thing as a prudent and impru- 
dent institution of life, with regard to our health and our affairs, 
under that his natural government. 

As neither the Jewish nor Christian revelation have been 
universal, and as they have been afforded to a greater or less 
part of the world, at different times, so likewise at different 
times, both revelations have had different degrees of evidence. 
The Jews who lived during the succession of prophets, i. e. 
from Moses till after the Captivity, had higher evidence of the 
trutli of their religion, thai;i those who had lived in the interval 
between the last mentioned period and the coming of Chri.st. 
And the fir.«t Christians had higher evidence of the miracles 
22 * 


258 REVELATION NOT UNIVERSAL: [PART II 

wrought .Ti attestation of Christianity than what we have now 
They had also a strong presumptive proof of the truth of it, 
perhaps of much greater force in way of argument, than many 
think, of which we have very little remaining; I mean, tha 
presumptive proof of its truth, from the influence which it had 
upon the lives of the generality of its professors. And we, oi 
future ages, may possibly have a proof of it, which they could 
not have, from the conformity between the prophetic history, 
ind the state of the world, and of Christianity. And farther : 
if we were to suppose the evidence which some have of religioi 
to amount to little more than seeing that it may be true, but 
that they remain in great doubts and uncertainties about both 
its evidence and its nature, and great perplexities concerning 
the rule of life ; others to have a full conviction of the truth of 
religion, with a distinct knowledge of their duty; and others 
severally to have all the intermediate degrees of religious light 
and evidence, which lie between these two — if we put the case, 
that for the present it was intended revelation should be nc 
more than a small light, in the midst of a world greatly over- 
spread, notwithstanding it, with ignorance and darkness ; that 
certain glimmerings of this light should extend, and be directed, 
to remote distances, in such a manner as that those who really 
partook of it should not discern from whence it originally came ; 
that some, in a nearer situation to it, should have its light 
obscured, and, in different ways and degrees, intercepted ; and 
that others should be placed within its clearer influence, and be 
much more enlivened, cheered, and directed by it ; but yet, that 
even to these it shonld be no more than a light shining in a 
dark place: all this would be perfectly uniform, and of a piece 
with the conduct of Providence, in the distribution of its other 
blessings. If the fact of the case really were, that some have 
received no light at all from the Scripture ; as many ages and 
countries in the heathen world : that others, though they have, 
by means of it, had essential or natural religion enforced upon 
\heir consciences, yet have never had the genuine Scripture 
revelation, with its real evidence, proposed to their considera- 
tion ; and the ancient Persians and modern Mahometans may 
possibly be instances of people in a situation somewhat like 
to this : that others, though they have had the Scripture laid 
before them as of divine revelation, yet have had it with the 
system and evidence of Christianity so interpolated, the system 
fiorrujpted, the evidence so blended with false miracles, as to 


OHAP. VI.J SUPPOSED DEFICIENUY IN ITS PROOF. 259 

leave tbe mind in the utmost doubtfulness and uncertainty about 
the whole ; which may be the state of some thoughtful meu in 
most of those nations who call themselves Christian ; and lastly^ 
that others have had Christianity offered to them in its genuine 
simplicity, and with its proper evidence, as persons in countries 
and churches of civil and of Chistian liberty ; but however that 
even these persons are left in great ignorance in many respects, 
and have by no means light afforded them enough to satisfy 
their curiosity, but only to regulate their life, to teach them 
their duty, and encourage them in the careful discharge of it : 
I say, if we were to suppose this somewhat of a general true 
account of the degrees of moral and religious light and evidence, 
which were intended to be afforded mankind, and of what has 
actually been and is their situation in their moral and religious 
capacity, there would be nothing in all this ignorance, doubtful- 
ness, and uncertainty, in all these varieties and supposed disad- 
vantages of some in comparison of others, respecting religion, 
' «t may be paralleled by manifest analogies in the natural dis- 
pensations of Providence at present, and considering ourselves 
merely in our temporal capacity. 

Nor is there any thing shocking in all this, or which would 
seem to bear hard upon the moral administration in nature, if 
we would really keep in mind, that every one shall be dealt 
equitably with ; instead of forgetting this, or explaining it away, 
after it is acknowledged in words. All shadow of injustice, and 
indeed all harsh appearances, in this various economy of Provi- 
dence, would be lost, if we would keep in mind, that every 
merciful allowance shall be made, and no more be required of 
any one, than what might have been equitably expected of him, 
from the circumstances in which he was placed ; and not what 
might have been expected, had he been placed in other circum- 
stances ; i. e. in Scripture language, that every man shall be 
accepted according to what he had, not according to what he had 
noU** This, however, doth not by any means imply, that all 
persons’ condition here is equally advantageous with respect to 
futurity. And Providence designing to place some in greater 
darkness with respect to religious knowledge, is no more a reason 
why they should not endeavour to get out of that darkness, and 
others to bring them out of it, than why ignorant and slow 
people, in matters of other knowledge, should net endeavour tc 
I'lorn, or should not be instructed. 


* 2 Cor, viii. 12. 


2 GO REVELATION NOT UNIVERSAL I [PART IL 

It is not unreasonable to suppose, that the same wise and 
good principle, whatever it was, which disposed the Author 
of Nature to make different kinds and orders of creatures, dis- 
posed him also to place creatures of like kinds in different situa- 
tions ; and that the same principle which disposed him to make 
creatures of different moral capacities, disposed him also to place 
creatures of like moral capacities in different religious situations : 
and even the same creatures, in different periods of their being. 
And the account or reason of this, is also most probably the ac- 
count, why the constitution of things is such, as that creatures 
of moral natures or capacities, for a considerable part of that 
duration in which they are living agents, are not at all sub- 
jects of morality and religion ; but grow up to be so, and grow up 
to be so more and more, gradually from childhood to mature age. 

What, in particular, is the account or reason of these things 
we must be greatly in the dark, were it only that we know so 
very little even of our own case. Our present state may pos- 
sibly be the consequence of somewhat past, which we are wholly 
ignorant of ; as it has a reference to somewhat to come, of which 
we know scarce any more than is necessary for practice. A 
system or constitution, in its notion, implies variety : and so 
complicated an one as this world, very great variety. So that 
were revelation universal, yet from men’s different capacities of 
understanding, from the different lengths of their lives, their 
different educations, and other external circumstances, and from 
their difference of temper and bodily constitution ; their religious 
situations would be widely different, and the disadvantage of 
some in comparison of others, perhaps, altogether as much as 
at present. And the true account, whatever it may be, why man- 
kind, or such a part of mankind, are placed in this condition of 
ignorance, must be supposed also the true account of our farther 
ignorance, in not knowing the reasons why, or whence it is, that 
they are placed in this condition. But the following practical 
reflections may deserve the serious consideration of those per- 
sons, who think the circumstances of mankind, or their own, in 
the fore-mentioned respects, a ground of complaint. 

Firsts The evidence of religion not appearing obvious, may 
constitute one particular part of some men’s trial in the religious 
sense : as it gives scope for a virtuous exercise, or vicious neglect, 
of their understanding, in examining or not examining into that 
evidence. There seems no possible reason to be given, why we 
may not be in a state of moral probation, with regard to the ex- 


OnAP. VI.] SUPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN ITS PROOF. 21>1 

ercise of our understanding upon the subject of religion, as we 
are with regard to our behaviour in common affairs. The former 
is as much a thing within our power and choice as the latter. 
And I suppose it is to be laid down for certain, that the same 
character, the same inward principle, which, after a man is con- 
vinced of the truth of religion, renders him obedient to the pre- 
cepts of it, would, were he not thus convinced, set him about an 
examination of it, upon its system and evidence being offered to 
his thoughts ; and that in the latter state, his examination would 
be with an impartiality, seriousness, and solicitude, proportion- 
able to what his obedience is in the former. And as inatten- 
tion, negligence, want of all serious concern, about a matter of 
such a nature and such importance, when offered to men^s con- 
sideration, is, before a distinct conviction of its truth, as real 
immoral depravity and dissoluteness, as neglect of religious 
practice after such conviction ; so active solicitude about it, and 
kir impartial consideration of its evidence before such convic- 
tion, is as really an exercise of a morally right temper, as is re- 
ligious practice after. Thus, that religion is not intuitively true, 
but a matter of deduction and inference ; that a conviction of its 
truth is not forced upon every one, but left to be, by some, col- 
lected with heedful attention to premises : this as much consti- 
tutes religious probation, as much affords sphere, scope, oppor- 
tunity, for right and wrong behaviour, as any thing whatever 
does. And their manner of treating this subject, when laid 
before them, shows what is in their heart, and is an exertion 
of it. 

Secondly j It appears to be a thing as evident, though it is 
not so much attended to, that if, upon consideration of religion, 
the evidence of it should seem to any persons doubtful, in the 
highest supposable degree; even this doubtful evidence will, 
however, put them into a general slate of probation, in the 
moral and religious sense. For, suppose a man to be really in 
doubt, whether such a person had not done him the greatest 
favour; or, whether his whole temporal interest did not depend 
upon that person ; no one, who had any sense of gratitude and 
of prudence, could possibly consider himself in the same situiu 
tion, with regard to such person, as if ho had no such doubt. 
In truth, it is as just to say, that certainty and doubt are the 
same, as to say, the situations now mentioned would leave a man 
ns entirely at liberty, in point of gratitude or prudence, as hir 
would be, were he certain he had received no favour from such 


REVELATION NOT UNIVERSAL : 


[PART II 




person, or that he no way depended upon him. And thus, 
though the evidence of religion which is afforded to some men, 
should be little more than that they are given to see the system 
of Christianity, or religion in general, to be supposable and cre- 
dible, this ought in all reason to beget a serious practical appre- 
hension that it may be true. And even this will afford matter 
of exercise, for religious suspense and deliberation, for moral 
-esolution and self-government; because the apprehension that 
eligion may be true, does as really lay men under obligations, 
as a full conviction that it is true. It gives occasion and motives 
to consider farther the important subject; to preserve attentively 
upon their minds a general implicit sense that they may be 
under divine moral government, an awful solicitude about reli- 
gion, whether natural or revealed. Such apprehension ought to 
turn men’s eyes to every degree of new light which may be had, 
from whatever side it comes, and induce them to refrain, in the 
mean time, from all immoralities, and live in the conscientious 
practice of every common virtue. Especially are they bT)und to 
keep at the greatest distance from all dissolute profaneness ; for 
this the very nature of the case forbids ; and to treat with highest 
reverence a matter upon which their own whole interest and 
being, and the fate of nature depends. This behaviour, and an 
active endeavour to maintain within themselves this temper, is 
the business, the duty, and the wisdom of those persons, who 
complain of the doubtfulness of religion ; is what they are under 
the most proper obligations to : and such behaviour is an exer- 
tion of, and has a tendency to improve in them, that character, 
which the practice of all the several duties of religion, from a 
full conviction of its truth, is an exertion of, and has a tendency 
to improve in others; others, I say, to whom God has afforded 
such conviction. Nay, considering the infinite importance of 
religion, revealed as well as natural, I think it may be said in 
general, that whoever will weigh the matter thoroughly, may see 
there is not near so much difference, as is commonly imagined, 
between what ought in reason to be the rule of life, to those 
persons who are fully convinced of its truth, and to those who 
have only a serious doubting apprehension that it may be true. 
Their hopes, and fears, and obligations, will bo in various 
degrees; but, as the subject-matter of their hopes and fears 
is the same, so the subject matter of their obligations, what 
they are bound to do and to refrain from, is net so very 
unlike. 


CHAP VJ.J SUPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN 118 PROOF. 2f)3 

It is to be observed, farther, that from a character cl under 
standing, or a situation of influence in the world, some persons 
have it in their power to do infinitely more harm or good, b} 
Betting an example of profaneness and avowed disregard to al» 
religion ; or, on the contrary, of a serious, though perhaps doubt* 
ing, apprehension of its truth, and of a reverend regard to it, 
under this doubtfulness, than they can do by acting well or ill 
in all the common intercourses amongst mankind ; and conse- 
quently they are most highly accountable for a behaviour, which, 
they may easily foresee, is of such importance, and in which 
there is most plainly a right and a wrong; even admitting the 
evidence of religion to be as doubtful as is pretended. 

The ground of these observations, and that which renders 
them just and true, is, that doubting necessarily implies some 
degree of evidence for that of which we doubt. For no person 
would be in doubt concerning the truth of a number of facts 
so and so circumstanced, which should accidentally come into 
his thoughts, and of which he had no evidence at all. And 
though in the case of an even chance, and where consequently 
we were in doubt, we should in common language say, that we 
had no evidence at all for either side; yet that situation of 
things, which renders it an even chance and no more, that such 
an event will happen, renders this case equivalent to all others, 
where there is such evidence on both sides of a question,* as 
leaves the mind in doubt concerning the truth. Indeed in all 
these cases, there is no more evidence on the one side than on 
the other ; but there is (what is equivalent to) much more for 
either, than for the truth of a number of facts which come inW 
one^s thoughts at random. And thus, in all these cases, doubt 
as much presupposes evidence, lower degrees of evidence, as 
belief presupposes higher, and certainty higher still. Any one, 
who will a little attend to the nature of evidence, will easily 
carry this observation on, and see, that between no evidence at 
all, and that degree of it which affords ground of doubt, there 
are as many intermediate degrees, as there are between that 
degree which is the ground of doubt, and demonstration. And 
though we have not faculties to distinguish these degrees of 
evidence, with any sort of exactness, yet, in proportion as they 
fere discerned, they ought to influence our practice. For it is as 
(.e-fti an imperfection in the moral character, not to be influenced 


* Introduction. 


*264 REVEI.AnON NOT UNIVERSAI * [PART O 

in practice by a lower degree of evidenee when discerned, as ii 
is in the understanding, not to discern it. And as, in all sun 
jects which men consider, they discern the lower as well as the 
higher degrees of evidence, proportionably to their capacity of 
understanding; so, in practical subjects, they are influenced in 
practice, by the lower as well as higher degrees of it, propor- 
tionably to their fairness and honesty. And as in proportion tc 
defects in the understanding, men are unapt to see lower degrees 
i)f evidence, are in danger of overlooking evidence when it is 
not glaring, and are easily imposed upon in such cases ; so, in 
proportion to the corruption of the heart, they seem capable of 
satisfying themselves with having no regard in practice to evi- 
dence acknowledged real, if it be not overbearing. From these 
things it must follow, that doubting concerning religion implies 
such a degree of evidence for it, as, joined with the consideration 
of its importance, unquestionably lays men under the obliga- 
tions before-mentioned, to have a dutiful regard to it in all their 
behaviour. 

Thirdly, The difficulties'tn which the evidence of religion is 
involved, which some complain of, is no more a just ground of 
complaint, than the external circumstances of temptation, which 
others are placed in ; or than difficulties in the practice of it, 
after a full conviction of its truth. Temptations render our 
state a more improving state of discipline,* than it would bo 
otherwise ; as they give occasion for a more attentive exercise 
of the virtuous principle, which confirms and strengthens it 
more than an easier or less attentive exercise of it could. Now 
speculative difficulties are, 'in this respect, of the very same 
nature with these external temptations. For the evidence of 
religion not appearing obvious, is to some persons a temptation 
to reject it, without any consideration at all; and therefore 
requires such an attentive exercise of the virtuous principle, 
seriously to consider that evidence, as there would be no occasion 
for, but for such temptation. And the supposed doubtfulness 
of its evidence, after it has been in some sort considered, afibrds 
opportunity to an unfair mind, of explaining away, and deeeit- 
fully hiding from itself, that evidence which it might see : and 
also for men’s encouraging themselves in vice, from hopes of 
impunity, though they do clearly see thus much at least, thaj 
these hopes are uncertain : in like manner as the common tempb 


Part i. chap. 6. 


OnA.P. VI. J SUPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN ITS PROOF 

ation to many instances of folly, which end in temporal infamy 
and ruin, is the ground for hope of not being detected, and oif 
escaping with impunity; i. e. the doubtfulness of the proof 
beforehand, that such foolish behaviour will thus end in infamy 
and ruin. On the contrary, supposed doubtfulness in the evi- 
dence of religion calls for a more careful and attentive exercise 
of the virtuous principle, in fairly yielding themselves up to the 
proper influence of any real evidence, though doubtful ; and in 
Practising conscientiously all virtue, though under some uncer- 
ainty, whether the government in the universe may not possibly 
be such, as that vice may escape with impunity. And in gene- 
ral, temptation, meaning by this word the lesser allurements to 
wrong, and difficulties in the discharge of our duty, as well as 
the greater ones ; temptation, I say, as such, and of every kind 
and degree, as it calls forth some virtuous efforts, additional to 
what would otherwise have been wanting, cannot but be an 
additional discipline and improvement of virtue, as well as pro- 
bation of it, in the other senses of that word.* So that the 
very same account is to be given, why the evidence of religion 
should be left in such a manner, as to require, in some, an atten- 
tive, solicitous, perhaps painful, exercise of their understanding 
about it ; as why others should be placed in such circumstances, 
IS that the practice of its common duties, after a full conviction 
of the truth of it, should require attention, solicitude, and pains ; 
or why appearing doubtfulness should be permitted to afford 
matter of temptation to some; as why external difficulties and 
allurements should be permitted to afford matter of temptation 
to others. The same account also is to be given, why some 
should be exercised with temptations of both these kinds, as 
why others should be exercised with the latter in such very 
high degrees, as some have been, particularly as the primitive 
Christians were. 

Nor does there appear any absurdity in supposing that the 
speculative difficulties in which the evidence of religion is in- 
volved, may make even the principal part of some persons’ trial. 
For as the chief temptations of the generality of the world, are 
the ordinary motives to injustice or unrestrained pleasure; oi 
to live in the neglect of religion, from that frame of mind, which 
renders many persons almost without feeling as to any thing 
distant, or which is not the object of their senses ; so there arc 


28 


* Part i. chap. 4, and page 163. 


200 REVELATION NOT UNIVERSAL: [PART n 

other persons without this shallowness of temper, persons of c 
deeper sense as to what is invisible and future, who not only see, 
but have a general practical feeling, that what is to come will 
be present, and that things are not less real, for their not being 
ihe objects of sense ; and who, from their natural constitution 
of body and of temper, and from their external condition, may 
have small temptations to behave ill, small difficulty in behaving 
well, in the common course of life. Now when these lattei 
persons have a distinct, full conviction of the truth of religion, 
without any possible doubts or difficulties, the practice of it is 
to them unavoidable, unless they will do a constant violence to 
their own minds ; and religion is scarce any more a discipline 
to them, than it is to creatures in a state of perfection. Yet 
.hese persons may possibly stand in need of moral discipline 
and exercise in a higher degree than they would have by such 
an easy practice of religion. Or it may be requisite, for reasons 
unknown to us, that they should give some further manifesta- 
tion* what is their moral character, to the creation of God, than 
such a practice of it would be. Thus in the great variety of 
religious situations in which men are placed, what constitutes, 
what chiefly and peculiarly constitutes the probation, in all 
senses, of some persons, may be the difficulties in which the 
evidence of religion is involved ; and their principal and dis- 
tinguished trial may be, how they will behave under and with 
respect to these difficulties. Circumstances in men’s situation 
in their temporal capacity, analogous in good measure to this, 
respecting religion, are to be observed. We find some persons 
are placed in such a situation in the world, as that their chief 
difficulty, with regard to conduct, is not the doing what is pru- 
dent when it is known ; for this, in numberless cases, is as easy 
as the contrary : but to some, the principal exercise is, recollec- 
tion, and being upon their guard against deceits, the deceits 
suppose of those about them ; against false appearances of rea- 
son and prudence. To persons in some situations, the principal 
exercise, with respect to conduct, is attention, in order to inform 
themselves what is proper, what is really the reasonable and 
prudent part to act. 

But as I have hitherto gone upon supposition, that men’ii 
dissatisfaction with the evidence of religion, is not owing to 
their neglects or prejudices; it must be added, on the othei 


Page 164. 


CHAP. VI.] SUPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN ITS PROOF. 267 

hand, in all common reason, and as what the truth of the case 
plainly requires should be added, that such dissatisfaction pos- 
sibly may be owing to those, poisibly may be men’s own fault 
For, 

If there are any persons who never set themselves heartily, 
and in earnest, to be informed in religion ; if there are any, 
who secretly wish it may not prove true, and are less attentive 
to evidence than to difficulties, and more to objections, than to 
what is said in answer to them ; these persons will scarce be 
thought in a likely way of seeing the evidence of religion, though 
it were most certainly true, and capable of being ever so fully 
proved. If any accustom themselves to consider this subject 
usually in the way of mirth and sport ; if they attend to forms 
and representations, and inadequate manners of expression, 
instead of the real things intended by them, (for signs often can 
be no more than inadequately expressive of the things signified) ; 
or if they substitute human errors in the room of divine truth ; 
why may not all, or any of these things, hinder some men from, 
seeing that evidence, which really is seen by others ; as a like 
turn of mind, with respect to matters of common speculation 
and practice, does, we find by experience, hinder them from 
attaining that knowledge and right understanding, in matters of* 
common speculation and practice, which more fair and attentive 
minds attain to? And the effect will be the same, whether 
their neglect of seriously considering the evidence of religion, 
and their indirect behaviour with regard to it, proceed from 
mere carelessness or from the grosser vices ; or whether it be 
owing to this, that forms, and figurative manners of expression, 
as well as errors, administer occasions of ridicule, when the 
things intended, and the truth itself, would not. Men may 
indulge a ludicrous turn so far, as to lose all sense of conduct 
and prudence in worldly affairs, and even, as it seems, to impair 
their faculty of reason. And in general, levity, carelessness, 
passion, and prejudice, do hinder us from being rightly informed 
with respect to common things ; and they may, in like manner, 
and perhaps in some farther providential manner, with respect 
to moral and religious subjects; may hinder evidence from being 
laid before us, and from being seen when it is. The Scripture'^ 

* Dan. xii. 10. See also Isaiah xxix. 13, 14, Matt. vi. 23, and xl. 
26, and xiii, 11, 12. John iii. 19, and v. 44. 1 Cor. ii. 14, and 2 Cor. 
iv. 4. 2 Tim. iii. 13, and that affectionate, as well as authoritative 

admonition, so very many times inculcated, “ He that hath ears to 


268 REVEIiATION NOT UNIVERSAL : [l^ART It 

does declare, that every one shall not understand. And it makes 
no difference by what providential conduct this comes to pass ; 
whether the evidence of Christianity was, originally and with 
design, put and left so, as that those who are desirous of evading 
moral obligations, should not see it, and that honest-minded 
persons should ; or whether it comes to pass by any other means. 

Farther : the general proof of natural religion and of Chris- 
tianity, does, I think, lie level to common men : even those, the 
greatest part of whose time, from childhood to old age, is taken 
up with providing, for themselves and their families, the common 
conveniences, perhaps necessaries, of life ; those, I mean, of this 
rank, who ever think at all of asking after proof, or attending to 
it. Common men, were they as much in earnest about religion 
as about their temporal affairs, are capable of being convinced 
upon real evidence, that there is a God who governs the world ; 
and they feel themselves to be of a moral nature, and account- 
able creatures. And as Christianity entirely falls in with this 
their natural sense of things, so they are capable, not only of 
being persuaded, but of being made to see, that there is evidence 
of miracles wrought in attestation of it, and many appearing 
completions of prophecy. But though this proof is real and 
conclusive, yet it is liable to objections, and may be run up into 
difficulties ; which, however, persons who are capable, not only 

hear, let him hear.” Grotius saw so strongly the thing intended in 
these and other passages of Scripture of the like sense, as to say, that 
the proof given us of Christianity was less than it might have been, 
for this very purpose : Ut ita sermo Evangelii tanquam lapis esset Lydius 
ad quern ingenia sanabilia explorarentur. De Ver. R. C. lib. 2, towards 
the end. [We give the passage from Grotius in full: “If there be 
any one who is not satisfied with the arguments hitherto alleged for 
the truth of the Christian religion, but desires more powerful ones, 
he ought to know that dilferent things must have different kinds of 
proof ; one sort in mathematics, another in the properties of bodies, 
another in doubtful matters, and another in matters of fact. And 
we are to abide by that whose testimonies are void of all suspicion : 
if this be not admitted, not only all history is of no further use, and 
a great part of physic ; but all that natural afiFection, which is between 
parents and children, is lost, who can be known no other way. And 
it is the will of God, that those things which he would have us believe, 
•0 as that faith should be accepted from us as obedience, should not 
be so very plain, as those things we perceive by our senses, and by 
demonstration ; but only so far as is sufficient to procure the belief, 
and persuade a man of the thing, who is not obstinately bent against 
it : So that the gospel is, as it were, a touchstone, to try men’s honest 
dispositions by.”] 


OKAP. VI.] SUPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN ITS niOOP. 2()a 

i)f talking of, but of really seeing, are capable also of seeing 
through ; i. e. not of clearing up and answering them, so aa 
to satisfy their curiosity, for of such knowledge we are rot 
c^^pable with respect to any one thing in nature ; but capable of 
seeing that the proof is not lost in these difficulties, or destroyed 
by these objections. But then a thorough examination into 
religion, with regard to these objections, which cannot be the 
business of every man, is a matter of pretty large compass, and 
from the nature of it, requires some knowledge, as well as time 
and attention, to see how the evidence comes out, upon balancing 
one thing with another, and what, upon the whole, is the amount 
of it. Now if persons who have picked up these objections from 
others, and take for granted they are of weight, upon the word 
of those from whom they received them, or by often retailing of 
them, come to see, or fancy they see, them to be of weight, will 
not prepare themselves for such an examinatiop, with a compe- 
tent degree of knowledge ; or will not give that time and atten- 
tion to the subject, which, from the nature of it, is necessary 
for attaining such information : in this case, they must remain 
in doubtfulness, ignorance, or error; in the same way as they 
must with regard to common sciences, and matters of common 
life, if they neglect the necessary means of being informed in 
them. 

But still perhaps it will be objected, that if a prince or com- 
mon master were to send directions to a servant, he would take 
care that they should always bear the certain marks who they 
came from, and that their sense should be always plain ; so as 
that there should be no possible doubt, if he could help it, con- 
cerning the authority or meaning of them. Now the proper 
answer to all this kind of objections is, that wherever the fallacy 
lies, it is even certain we cannot argue thus with respect to him 
who is the governor of the world ; and particularly, that he docs 
not afford us such information, with respect to our temporal 
affairs and interests, as experience abundantly shows. How- 
ever, there is a full answer to this objection, from the verj 
nature of religion. For, the reason why a prince would give hij 
directions in this plain manner is, that he absolutely desires suck 
an external action should be done, without concerning himself 
with the motive or principle upon which it is done ; i. e. he re- 
gards only the external event, or the things’ being done, and not 
At all^ properly speaking, the doing of it, or the action. Where- 
as, the whole of morality and religion consisting merely in action 
23 * 


270 REVELATION NOT UNIVERSAL i [VAllT H 

itself, th:re is no sort of parallel between the cases. But if the 
prince be supposed to regard only the action ; i. e. only to desire 
to exercise, or in any sense prove, the understanding or loyalty 
of a servant, he would not always give his orders in such a plain 
manner. It may be proper to add, that the will of God, re- 
specting morality and religion, may be considered, either as ab- 
solute, or as only conditional. If it be absolute, it can only be 
thus, that we should act virtuously in such given circumstances ; 
not that we should be brought to act so, by his changing of our 
circumstances. And if God’s will be thus absolute, then it is 
in our power, in the highest and strictest sense, to do or to con- 
tradict his will; which is a most weighty consideration. Or his 
will may be considered only as conditional, — that if we act so 
and so, we shall be rewarded ; if otherwise, punished : of which 
conditional will of the Author of Nature, the whole constitution 
of it affords most certain instances. 

Upon the whole : that we are in a state of religion necessarily 
implies, that we are in a state of probation : and the credibility 
of our being at all in such a state being admitted, there seems 
no peculiar difficulty in supposing our probation to be, just as it 
is, in those respects which are above objected against. There 
seems no pretence, from the reason of the thing, to say, that the 
trial cannot equitably be any thing, but whether persons will 
act suitably to certain information, or such as admits no room 
for doubt ; so as that there can be no danger of miscarriage, but 
either from their not attending to what they certainly know, or 
from overbearing passion hurrying them on to act contrary to it. 
For, since ignorance and doubt afford scope for probation in all 
senses, as really as intuitive conviction or certainty ; and since 
the two former are to be put to the same account, as difficulties 
in practice ; men’s moral probation may also be, whether they 
will take due care to inform themselves by impartial considera- 
tion, and afterwards whether they will act as the case requires, 
upon the evidence which they have, however doubtful. And 
this, we find by experience, is frequently our probation,* in our 
temporal capacity. For the information which we want, with 
regard to our worldly interests, is by no means always given us 
of course, without any care of our own. And we are greatly 
liable to self-deceit from inward secret prejudices; and also to 
the deceit of others. So that to be able tr judge what is tba 


I ages 112, 264, 


CHAP. VI ] SUPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN ITS PROOF. 


271 


prudent part, often requires much and difiScult consideration. 
Then after we have judged the very best we can, the evidence 
upon which we must act, if we will live and act at all, is per- 
petually doubtful to a very high degree. And the constitution 
and course of the world in fact is such, as that want of impar 
tial consideration what we have to do, and venturing upon ex 
travagant courses, because it is doubtful what will be the con- 
sequences, are often naturally, i. e. providentially, altogether 
is fatal, as misconduct occasioned by heedless inattention to 
what we certainly know, or disregarding it from overbearing 
passion. 

Several of the observations here made may well seem strange, 
perhaps unintelligible to many good men. But if the persons 
for whose sake they are made, think so ; persons who object as 
above, and throw off all regard to religion under pretence of 
want of evidence; I desire them to consider again, whether 
their thinking so, be owing to any thing unintelligible in these 
observations, or to their own not having such a sense of religion, 
and serious solicitude about it, as even their state of scepticism 
does in all reason require? It ought to be forced upon the 
reflection of these persons, that our nature and condition neces- 
sarily require us, in the daily course of life, to act upon evidence 
much lower than what is commonly called probable ; to guard 
not only against what we fully believe will, but also against 
what we think it supposable may, happen ; and to engage in 
pursuits when the probability is greatly against success, if it be 
credible that p«>ssibly we may succeed in them. 


272 


THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE 


[PART M 


CHAP. VII. 

Of the particular Evidence for Christianity.^ 

The presumptions against revelation, and objections igoinei 
Uie general scheme of Christianity, and particular things .elating 
to it, being removed, there remains to be considered, what posi- 
tive evidence we have for the truth of it : chiefly in order to see 
what the analogy of nature suggests with regard to that evi- 
dence, and the objections against it ; or to see what is, and is 
allowed to be, the plain natural rule of judgment and of action 
in our temporal concerns, in cases where we have the same kind 
of evidence, and the same kind of objections against it, that we 
have in the case before us. 

Now, in the evidence of Christianity, there seem to be several 
things of great weight, not reducible to the head, either of mira- 
cles, or the completion of prophecy, in the common acceptation 
of the words. But these two are its direct and fundamental 
proofs ; and those other things, however considerable they are, 
yet ought never to be urged apart from its -direct proofs; but 
always to be joined with them. Thus the evidence of Chris- 
tianity will be a long series of things, reaching, as it seems, 

^ [At the place where we now find ourselves, Butler makes a transi- 
tion In his argument; he passes from the subject-matter of Christi- 
anity to its evidence. He has hitherto been employed in removing 
the objections against Christianity itself by the argument of analogy, 
and by the same engine he now proceeds to remove the objections that 
may be levelled against the proof of it. The two objects are altogether 
distinct. * * * * In the discharge of this second service, he ia 

vot called upon to propound very fully, or in the way of positive vin- 
Jication, the evidences of Christianity. He adverts to them ; he states 
what they are ; he even renders a passing homage to their authority 
and force ; but his proper task is to do by them what he had before 
done by the subject-matter of revelation, that is, clear away the objec- 
tions, not now against the doctrine of Christianity, but against the 
proof of it, and that by showing that the similar or analogous objeo 
tions in other cases are not admitted to have the validity which, ip 
the case of the evangelical story, the opponents of the gospel would 
fain allow to them. — Chalmers ] 


FOR CHRISTIANITY. 


273 


CHAP. VII J 

from tie begioning of the world to the present time, of great 
variety and compass, taking in both the direct and also the col- 
lateral proofs, and making up, all of them together, one argu- 
ment ; the conviction arising from which kind of proof may be 
compared to what they call the effect in architecture or other 
works of art; a result from a great number of things so and so 
disposed, and taken into one view. I shall therefore, Jiraty 
make some observations relating to miracles, and the appearing 
completions of prophecy ; and consider what analogy suggests, 
in answer to the objections brought against this evidence. And 
secondly ^ I shall endeavour to give some account of the general 
argument now mentioned, consisting both of the direct and col- 
lateral evidence, considered as making up one argument : this 
being the kind of proof, upon which we determine most ques- 
tions of diflSculty concerning common facts, alleged to have 
happened, or seeming likely to happen; especially questions 
relating to conduct. 

First, I shall make some observations upon the direct proof 
of Christianity from miracles and prophecy, and upon the objec- 
tions alleged against it. 

I. Now the following observations, relating to the historical 
evidence of miracles wrought in attestation of Christianity, 
appear to be of great weight. 

1. The Old Testament affords us the same historical evidence 
of the miracles of Moses and of the prophets, as of the com- 
mon civil history of Moses and the kings of Israel ; or, as of 
the affiirs of the Jewish nation. And the Gospels and the 
Acts afford us the same historical evidence of the miracles of 
Christ and the Apostles, as of the common matters related in 
them.* This indeed could not have been affirmed by any rea- 

* [This was clearly observed, and distinctly stated by Lord Boling- 
broke : “ The miracles in the Bible are not like those in Livy, detached 
pieces that do not disturb the civil history, which goes on very well 
without them. But the miracles of the Jewish historian are intimately 
connected with all the civil affairs, and make a necessary and insepa- 
rable part. The whole history is founded in them ; it consists of little 
else ; and if it were not a history of them, it would be a history of 
nothing.” — Bolinghroke' s Fosihurnous Works, vol. iii. p. 279. The 
state of the case seems to be, that the gravity, distinctness, and good 
sense of the Scripture histories, in relating civil affairs, prove those 
naira tives not to be mythical, i. e. not to be the product of imagina- 
tion. And the intimate connection of the miraculous with the natural 
facts, proves that the former are not merely introduced for the eaka 
of ornament. — F.] 


274 OF THE PARTICULAR E’VlDENCE [PART 11 

sonable man, if the authors of these books, like many other 
historians, had appeared to make an entertaining manner of 
writing their aim; though they had interspersed miracles in 
their works, at proper distances, and upon proper occasions. 
These might have animated a dull relation, amused the reader, 
and engaged his attention. And the same account would natu- 
rally have been given of them, as of the speeches and descrip- 
tions of such authors ; the same account, in a manner, as is to 
be given, why the poets make use of wonders and prodigies. 
But the facts, both miraculous and natural, in Scripture, are 
related in plain unadorned narratives : and both of them appear, 
in all respects, to stand upon the same footing of historical evi- 
dence. Farther : some parts of Scripture, containing an account 
of miracles fully sufficient to prove the truth of Christianity, 
are quoted as genuine, from the age in which they are said to 
be written, down to the present : and no other parts of them, 
material in the present question, are omitted to be quoted in 
such manner, as to afford any sort of proof of their not being 
genuine. And as common history, when called in question in 
any instance, may often be greatly confirmed by contemporary 
or subsequent events more known and acknowledged ; and as 
the common Scripture history, like many others, is thus con- 
firmed ; so likewise is the miraculous history of it, not only in 
particular instances, but in general. For the establishment of 
the Jewish and Christian religions, which were events contem- 
porary with the miracles related to be wrought in attestation 
of both, or subsequent to them, these events are just what we 
should have expected, upon supposition such miracles were really 
wrought to attest the truth of those religions. These miracles 
are a satisfactory account of those events, of which no other 
satisfactory account can be given, nor any account at all, but 
what is imaginary merely and invented. It is to be added, that 
the most obvious, the most easy and direct account of this his- 
tory, how it came to be written, and to be received in the world 
as a true history, is, that it really is so; nor can any other 
account of it be easy and direct. Now, though an account, not 
at all obvious, but very far-fetched and indirect, may indeed be, 
and often is, the true account of a matter ; yet, it cannot be 
admitted on the authority of its being asserted. Mere guess, 
supposition, and possibility, when opposed to historical evidence, 
prove nothing, but that historical evidence is not demonstrative. 

Now the just consequence from all this, I think, is, that tha 


FOR CHRISTIANITY. 


275 


CHAP I>II.] 

Scripture history, in general, is to be admitted as an authentic 
genuine history, till somewhat positive be alleged sufficient to 
invalidate it. But no man will deny the consequence to be, 
that it cannot be rejected, or thrown by as of no authority, till 
It can be proved to be of none ; even though the evidence now 
mentioned for its authority were doubtful. This evidence may 
be confronted by historical evidence on the other side, if there 
be any ; or general incredibility in the things related, or incon* 
flistcnce in the general turn of the history, would prove it to be 
of no authority. But since, upon the face of the matter, upon 
a first and general view, the appearance is, that i^is an authentic 
history, it cannot be determined to be fictitious without some 
proof that it is so. And the following observations, in support 
of these, and coincident with them, will greatly confirm the 
historical evidence for the truth of Christianity. 

2. The Epistles of St. Paul, from the nature of epistolary 
writing, and moreover, from several of them being written, not 
to particular persons, but to churches, carry in them evidences 
of their being genuine, beyond what can be, in a mere historical 
narrative, left to the world at large. This evidence, joined with 
that which they have in common with the rest of the New Tes- 
tament, seems not to leave so much as any particular pretence 
for denying their genuineness, considered as an ordinary mattei 
of fact, or of criticism. I say, particular pretence for denying 
it ; because any single fact of such a kind and such antiquity, 
may have general doubts raised concerning it, from the very 
nature of human affairs and human testimony. There is also 
to be mentioned, a distinct and particular evidence of the genu- 
ineness of the epistle chiefly referred to here, the first to the 
Corinthians : from the manner in which it is quoted by Clemens 
Romanus, in an epistle of his own to that Church.* Now these 
epistles afford a proof of Christianity, detached from all others, 
which is, I think, a thing of weight ; and also a proof of a nature 
and kind peculiar to itself. For, 

In them the author declares, that he received the gospel in 
general, and the institution of the communion in particular, not 
from the rest of the apostles, or jointly together with them, but 
alone, from Christ himself; whom he declares, likewise, confer* 
nably to the history in the Acts, that he saw after his ascen* 


* Clem. Rom. Ep. I. ch. 47. 


276 


OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART H. 

Bion.* So that the testimony of St. Paul is to be considered aji 
detached from that of the rest of the apostles. 

And he declares farther, that he was endued with a power 
of working miracles, as what was publicly known to this very 
people; speaks of frequent and great variety of miraculous 
gifts, as then subsisting in those very churches to which he was 
writing; which he was reproving for several irregularities, and 
where he had personal opposers : he mentions these gifts inci- 
ien tally, in the most easy manner, and without effort ; by way 
ef reproof to those who had them, for their indecent use of 
them; and by way of depreciating them, in comparison of 
moral virtues. In short, he speaks to these churches, of these 
miraculous powers, in the manner any one would speak to an- 
other of a thing, which was as familiar, and as much known in 
common to them both, as any thing in the world.f And this, 
as hath been observed by several persons, is surely a very con- 
siderable thing. 

3. It is an acknowledged historical fact, that Christianity 
offered itself to the world, and demanded to be received, upon 
the allegation, i. e. as unbelievers would speak, upon the pre- 
tence of miracles, publicly wrought to attest the truth of it in 
such an age ; and that it was actually received by great numbers 
in that very age, and upon the professed belief of the reality of 
these miracles. And Christianity, including the dispensation 
of the Old Testament, seems distinguished by this from all other 
religions. I mean that this does not appear to be the case with 
regard to any other. For surely it will not be supposed to lie 
upon and person, to prove, by positive historical evidence, that 
it was not. It does in no sort appear that Mahometanism was 
first received in the world upon the footing of supposed mira- 
cles,! that is, public ones : for, as revelation is itself miraculous, 
all pretence to it must necessarily imply some pretence of mira- 
cles And it is a known fact, that it was immediately, at tho 
very first, propagated by other means. And as particular insti- 
tutions, whether in paganism or popery, said to be confirmed by 
Tnimcles, after those institutions had obtained, are not to the 
purpose ; so, were there what might be called historical proof, 
that any of them were introduced by a supposed divine com- 

Gal. i. ; 1 Cor. xi. 23, &c. ; 1 Cor. xv. 8. 

f Kom. XV. 19; 1 Cor. xii. 8, 9, 10 — 28, &c., and chap. xiU I, 

8, and the whole xivth chap. ; 2 Cor. xii. 12, 13 ; Gal. iii. 2, 6. 

X See the Koran, chap, xiii and chap. xvii. 


FOR CURISriANITY. 


277 


CHAP. VII.] 

mand, believed to be attested by miracles, these would not be iu 
any wise parallel. For single things of this sort are easy to be 
accounted for, after parties are formed, and have power in their 
hands ; and the leaders of them are in veneration with the mul- 
titude ; and political interests are blended with religious claims, 
and religious distinctions. But before any thing of this kind, 
for a few persons, and those of the lowest rank, all at once, to 
bring over such great numbers to a new religion, and get it to 
be received upon the particular evidence of miracles; this in 
quite another thing. And I think it will be allowed by any 
fair adversary, that the fact now mentioned, taking in all the 
circumstances of it, is peculiar to the Christian religion. How- 
ever, the fact itself is allowed, that Christianity obtained, i. e. 
was professed to be received in the world, upon the belief of 
miracles, immediately in the age in which it is said those mira- 
cles were wrought : or that this is what its first converts would 
have alleged, as the reason for their embracing it. Now cer- 
tainly it is not to be supposed, that such numbers of men, in 
the most distant parts of the world, should forsake the religion 
of their country, in which they had been educated; separate 
themselves from their friends, particularly in their festival shows 
and solemnities, to which the common people are so greatly ad- 
dicted, and which were of a nature to engage them much more 
than any thing of that sort amongst us; and embrace a religion, 
which could not but expose them to many inconveniences, and 
indeed must have been a giving up the world in a great degree, 
even from the very first, and before the empire engaged in form 
against them : it cannot be supposed, that such numbers should 
make so great, and, to say the least, so inconvenient a change 
in their whole institution of life, unless they were really con- 
vinced of the truth of those miracles, upon the knowledge or 
belief of which they professed to make it. And it will, I sup- 
pose, readily be acknowledged, that the generality of the first 
converts to Christianity must have believed them ; that as, by 
becoming Christians, they declared to the world «they were satis- 
fied of the tnith of those miracles, so this declaration was to bo 
credited. And this their testimony is the same kind of evidence 
for those miracles, as if they had put it in writing, and these 
writings had come down to us. And it is real evidence, because 
it is of facts, which they had capacity and full opportunity to 
inform themselves of. It is also distinct from the direct or ex- 
press historical evidence, though it is of the same kind ; and ^ 
24 


278 OP THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART II 

would be allowed to be distinct in all cases. For, were a fact 
expressly related by one or more ancient historians, and dis- 
puted in after ages ; that this fact is acknowledged to have been 
believed, by great numbers of the age in which the historian 
says it was done, would be allowed an additional proof of such 
fact, quite distinct from the express testimony of the historian. 
The credulity of mankind is acknowledged, and the suspicioni 
sf mankind ought to be acknowledged too ; and their backward* 
ness even to believe, and greater still to practise, what makes 
igainst their interest. And it must particularly be remem- 
Dered, that education, and prejudice, and authority, were against 
Christianity, in the age I am speaking of. So that the imme- 
diate conversion of such numbers, is a real presumption of some- 
what more than human in this matter : I say presumption, for 
it is not alleged as a proof, alone and by itself. Nor need any 
one of the things mentioned in this Chapter be considered as a 
proof by itself ; and yet all of them together may be one of 
the strongest. 

Upon the whole : as there is large historical evidence, both 
direct and circumstantial, of miracles wrought in attestation of 
Christianity, collected by those who have writ upon the subject, 
it lies upon unbelievers to show, why this evidence is not to be 
credited. This way of speaking is, I think, just, and what per- 
sons who write in defence of religion naturally fall into. Yet 
in a matter of such unspeakable importance, the proper question 
is, not whom it lies upon, according to the rules of argument, 
to maintain or confute objections ; but whether there really are 
any, against this evidence, sufficient in reason, to destroy the 
credit of it ? However, unbelievers seem to take upon them 
the part of showing that there are. 

They allege, that numberless enthusiastic people, in different 
ages and countries, expose themselves to the same difficulties 
which the primitive Christians did ; and are ready to give up 
their lives, for the most idle follies imaginable. But it is not 
very clear, to what purpose this objection is brought. For 
every one, surely, in every case, must distinguish between opi- 
nions and facts. And though testimony is no proof of enthu- 
wastic opinions, or of any opinions at all ; yet it is allowed, in 
all other cases, to be a proof of fficts. And a person's laying 
down his life in attestation of facts, or of opinions, is the strong- 
est proof of his believing them. And if the apostles and their 
contemporaries did believe the facts, in attestation of which they 


FOR CHRISTIANITY. 


•279 


<7nAp. fii.J 

exposed themselves to sufferings and death, this their belief, or 
rather knowledge, must be a proof of those facts ; for they were 
such as came under the observation of their senses. And though 
it is not of equal weight, yet it is of weight, that the martyrs 
of the next age, notwithstanding they were not eye-witnesses of 
those facts, as were the apostles and their contemporaries, had, 
however, full opportunity to inform themselves, whether they 
were true or not, and give equal proof of their believing them 
0 be true. 

But enthusiasm, it is said, greatly weakens the evidence cf 
testimony, even for facts, in matters relating to religion ; some 
seem to think, it totally and absolutely destroys the evidence 
of testimony upon this subject. And indeed the powers of 
enthusiasm, and of diseases, too, which operate in a like man 
ner, are very wonderful, in particular instances. But if great 
numbers of men, not appearing in any peculiar degree weak, 
nor under any peculiar suspicion of negligence, affirm that they 
saw and heard such things plainly with their eyes and their 
ears, and are admitted to be in earnest; such testimony is evi- 
dence of the strongest kind we can have for any matter of fact. 
Yet possibly it may be overcome, strong as it is, by incredibility 
in the things thus attested, or by contrary testimony. And in 
an instance whore one thought it was so overcome, it might be 
just to consider, how far such evidence could be accounted for 
by enthusiasm : for it seems as if no other imaginable account 
were to be given of it. But till such incredibility be shown, or 
contrary testimony produced, it cannot surely be expected, that 
so far-fetched, so indirect and wonderful an account of such tes- 
timony, as that of enthusiasm must be ; an account so strange, 
that the generality of mankind can scarce be made to understand 
what is meant by it; it cannot, I say, be expected, that such 
account will be admitted of such evidence, when there is this 
direct, easy, and obvious account of it, that people really saw 
and heard a thing not incredible, which they affirm sincerely, 
and with full assurance, they did sec and hear. Granting then, 
that enthusiasm is not (strictly speaking) an absurd, but a pos- 
sible account of such testimony, it is manifest that the very 
mention of it goes upon the previous supposition, that the things 
«o attested are incredible ; and therefore need not be considered, 
Ull they are shown to be so. Much less need it be considered, 
after the contrary has been proved. And I think it has been 
proved, to full satisfaction, that there is no incredibility in revo 


280 


OP THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE 


[PAKT n 


lation, in general, or in such a one as the Christian in particular 
However, as religion is supposed peculiarly liable to enthusiasnij 
it may just be oWrved, that prejudices almost without numberj 
and without name, romance, affectation, humour, a desire to en- 
gage attention or to surprise, the party spirit, custom, little com- 
petitions, unaccountable likings and dislikings; these influence 
men strongly in common matters. And as these prejudices are 
often scarce known or reflected upon by the persons themselves 
who are influenced by them, they are to be considered as influ- 
ences of a like kind to enthusiasm. Yet human testimony in 
common mattei’s is naturally and justly believed notwithstanding. 

It is intimated farther, in a more refined way of observation, 
that though it should be proved, that the apostles and first 
Christians, could not, in some respects, be deceived themselves, 
and, in other respects, cannot be thought to have intended to 
impose upon the world, yet it will not follow, that their general 
testimony is to be believed, though truly handed down to us ; 
because they might still in part, i. e. in other respects, be de- 
ceived themselves, and in part also designedly impose upon 
others ; which, it is added, is a thing very credible, from that 
mixture of real enthusiasm and real knavery, to be met with in 
the same characters. And, I must confess, I think the matter 
of fact contained in this observation upon mankind, is not to be 
denied ; and that somewhat very much akin to it, is often sup- 
posed in Scripture, as a very common case, and most severely 
reproved. But it were to have been expected, ihat persona 
capable of applying this observation, as applied in the objection, 
might also frequently have met with the like mixed character, 
in instances where religion was quite out of the case. The 
thing plainly is, that mankind are naturally endued with reason, 
or a capacity of distinguishing between truth and falsehood j and 
as naturally they are endued with veracity, or a regard to truth 
in what they say : but from many occasions, they are liable tc 
be prejudiced, and biassed, and deceived themselves, and capable 
of intending to deceive others, in every different degree ; inso- 
much that, as we are all liable to be deceived by prejudice, bo 
likewise it seems to be not an uncommon thing, for persons who, 
from their regard to truth, would not invent a lie entirely with- 
out any foundation at all, to propagate it with heightening cir- 
cumstances, after it is once invented, and set agoing. And 
others, though they would not propagate a lie, yet, which is a 
lower degree of falsehood, will let it pass without contradiction 


FOR CHRISTIANITY. 


•281 


CHAP. VII.] 

But notwithstanding all this, human testimony remains still a 
natural ground of assent; and this assent, a natural pnnc'iple 
of action. 

It is objected farther, that however it has happened, the fact 
is, that mankind have, in different ages, been strangely deluded 
with pretences to miracles and wonders. But it is by no means 
to be admitted, that they have been oftener, or are at all more 
liable to be deceived by these pretences, than by others. 

It is added, that there is a very considerable degree of histo- 
rical evidence for miracles which arc on all hands acknowledged 
to be fabulous. But suppose that there were even the like his- 
torical evidence for these, to what there is for those alleged in 
proof of Christianity, which yet is in nowise allowed, but sup- 
pose this ; the consequence would not bo, that the evidence of 
the latter is not to be admitted. Nor is there a man in the 
world who, in common cases, would conclude thus. For what 
would such a conclusion really amount to but this, that evidence 
confuted by contrary evidence, or any way overbalanced, destroys 
the credibility of other evidence, neither confuted, nor overbal- 
anced ? To argue, that because there is, if there were, like 
evidence from testimony, for miracles acknowledged false, as 
for those in attestation of Christianity, therefore the evidence 
in the latter case is not to be credited ; this is the same as to 
argue, that if two men of equally good reputation had given 
evidence in different cases no way connected, and one of them 
had been convicted of perjury, this confuted the testimony of 
the other. 

Upon the whole then, the general observation that human 
creatures are so liable to be deceived, from enthusiasm in reli- 
gion, and principles equivalent to enthusiasm in common matters, 
and in both from negligence; and that they are so capable of 
dishonestly endeavouring to deceive others; this does indeed 
weaken the evidence of testimony in all cases, but does not 
destroy it in any. And these things will appear to different 
men to weaken the evidence of testimony in different degrees ; 
in degrees proportionable to the observations they have made, oi 
the notions they have any way taken up, concerning the weak- 
ness, and negligence, and dishonesty of mankind;* or concern- 
ing the powers of enthusiasm, and prejudices equivalent to it. 
But it seems to me, that people do not know what they say, whc 
affirm these things to destroy the evidence from testimony, 
which we have of the truth of Christianitj Nothing can 
24 * 


282 OF THE PARTICULAB EVIDENCE [PART H. 

destroy the evidence of testimony in any case, but a proof oi 
probability, that persons are not competent judges of the facta 
to which they give testimony; or that they are actually under 
some indirect influence in giving it, in such particular case. 
Till this be made out, the natural laws of human actions require 
that testimony be admitted. It can never be sufficient to over- 
throw direct historical evidence, indolently to say, that there are 
so many principles, from whence men are liable to be deceived 
themselves and disposed to deceive others, especially in matters 
of religion, that one knows not what to believe. And it is sur- 
prising persons can help reflecting, that this very manner of 
speaking supposes, they are not satisfied that there is nothing in 
the evidence, of which they speak thus ; or that they can avoid 
observing, if they do make this reflection, that it is, on such a 
subject, a very material one.* 

And over against all these objections, is to be set the import- 
ance of Christianity, as what must have engaged the attention 
of its first converts, so as to have rendered them less liable to 
be deceived from carelessness, than they would in common 
matters ; and likewise the strong obligations to veracity, which 
their religion laid them under : so that the first and most ob- 
vious presumption is, that they could not be deceived them- 
selves, nor would deceive others. And this presumption, in 
this degree, is peculiar to the testimony we have been con 
sidering. 

In argument, assertions are nothing in themselves, and have 
an air of positiveness, which sometimes is not very easy : yet 
they are necessary, and necessary to be repeated, in order to 
connect a discourse, and distinctly to lay before the view of the 
reader, what is proposed to be proved, and what is left as 
proved. Now the conclusion from the foregoing observations 
is, I think, beyond all doubt this : that unbelievers must be 
forced to admit the external evidence for Christianity, i. e. the 
proof of miracles wrought to attest it, to be of real weight and 
rery considerable ; though they cannot allow it to be sufficient, 
V convince them of the reality of those miracles. And as they 
must, in all reason, admit this, so it seems to me, that upon 
consideration they would in fact admit it; those of them, I 
mean, who know any thing at all of the matter : in like mannei 
its persons, in many cases, own they see strong evidence from 


• See the foregoing Chapter. 


4JI1AP. vn.] 


FOR CHRISTIANITY. 


283 


testimony for tlii truth of things, which yet they cannot 
convinced are true; cases, suppose, where there is contrary 
testimony, or things which they think, whether with or without 
reason, to be credible. But there is no testimony contrary to 
that which we have been considering; and it has been fully 
proved, that there is no incredibility in Christianity in general, 
or in any part of it 

II. As to the evidence for Christianity from prophecy, I 
&hall only make some few general observations, which are sug- 
gested by the analogy of nature; i. e. by the acknowledged 
natural rules of judging in common matters concerning evidence 
of a like kind to this from prophecy. 

1. The obscurity or unintelligibleness of one part of a pro- 
phecy, does not in any degree invalidate the proof of foresight, 
arising from the appearing completion of those other parts which 
are understood. For the case is evidently the same, as if those 
parts which are not understood, were lost, or not written at all, 
or written in an unknown tongue. Whether this observation 
be commonly attended to or not, it is so evident, that one can 
scarce bring one’s self to set down an instance in common 
matters, to exemplify it. However, suppose a writing, partly 
in cypher, and partly in plain words at length, and that in the 
part one understood, there appeared mention of several known 
hicts ; it would never come into any man’s thoughts to imagine, 
that if he understood the whole, perhaps he might find, that 
those facts were not in reality known by the writer. Indeed, 
both in this example, and the thing intended to be exemplified 
by it, our not understanding the whole (the whole, suppose, of 
a sentence or a paragraph) might sometimes occasion a doubt, 
whether one understood the literal meaning of such a part ; but 
this comes under another consideration. 

For the same reason, though a man should be incapable, for 
want of learning, or opportunities of inquiry, or from not having 
turned his studies this way, even so much as to judge, whether 
particular prophecies have been throughout completely fulfilled ; 
yet he may see, in general, that they have been fulfilled to such 
a degree, as, upon very good ground, to be convinced of foresight 
more than human in such prophecies, and of such events being 
intended by them. For the same reason also, though by means 
yf the deficiencies in civil history, and the difierent accounts of 
historians, the most learned should not be able to make out to 
satisfaction, that such parts of the prophetic history have been 


284 OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART II 

minutely and throughout fulfilled; yet a very strong proof of 
foresight may arise, from that general completion of them which 
is made out : as much proof of foresight, perhaps, as the Givei 
of prophecy intended should ever be afforded by such parts of 
prophecy. 

2. A long series of prophecy being applicable to such and such 
events, is itself a proof, that it was intended of them ; as the 
rules by which we naturally judge and determine, in common 
vjascs parallel to this, will show. This observation I make in 
answer to the common objection against the application of the 
prophecies, that considering each of them distinctly by itself, it 
does not at all appear, that they were intended of those particu- 
lar events to which they are applied by Christians ; and there- 
fore it is to be supposed, that, if they meant any thing, they 
were intended of other events unknown to us, and not of these 
at all. 

Now there are two kinds of writing, which bear a great re- 
semblance to prophecy, with respect to the matter before us ; 
the mythological and the satirical, where the satire is, to a cer- 
tain degree, concealed. And a man might be assured, that ho 
understood what an author intended by a fable or parable, re 
lated without any application or moral, merely from seeing it co 
be easily capable of such application, and that such a moral 
might naturally be deduced from it. And he might be fully 
assured, that such persons and events were intended in a satirical 
writing, merely from its being applicable to them. And agree- 
ably to the last observation, he might be in a good measure 
satisfied of it, though he were not enough informed in affairs or 
in the story of such persons, to understand half the satire. For, 
his satisfaction, that he understood the meaning, the intended 
meaning, of these writings, would be greater or less, in propor- 
tion as he saw the general turn of them to be capable of such 
application, and in proportion to the number of particular things 
capable of it. And thus, if a long series of prophecy is appli- 
cable to the present state of the church, and to the political 
situations of the kingdoms of the world, some thousand years 
after these prophecies were delivered, and a long series of pro- 
phecy delivered before the coming of Christ is applicable to 
him ; these things are in themselves a proof, that the prophetic 
history was intended of him, and of those events ; in proportion 
ts the general turn of it is capable of such application, and to 
th^ number and variety of particular prophecies capable of it 


FOR CHRISTIAN ITT. 


285 


CHAP VJI.J 

And though, in all just way of consideration, the appearing 
completion of prophecies is to be allowed to be thus explanatory 
of, and to determine their meaning; yet it is to be remembered 
farther, that the ancient Jews applied the prophecies to a Mes- 
siah before his coming, in much the same manner as Christiana 
do now ; and that the primitive Christians interpreted the pro- 
phecies respecting the state of the church and of the world, in 
the last ages, in the sense which the event seems to confirm 
tnd verify. And from these things it may be made to appear, 
8. That the showing even to a high probability, if that could 
lie, that the prophets thought of some other events, in such and 
2 uch predictions, and not those at all which Christians allege to 
be completions of those predictions; or that such and such pro- 
phecies are capable of being applied to other events than those 
to which Christians apply them — that this would not confute 
cr destroy the force of the argument from prophecy, even with 
regard to those very instances. For, observe how this matter 
really is. If one knew such a person to be the sole author of 
such a book, and was certainly assured, or satisfied to any degree, 
that one knew the whole of what he intended in it, one should 
be assured or satisfied to such a degree, that one knew the whole 
meaning of that book ; for the meaning of a book is nothing 
but the meaning of the author. But if one knew a person to 
nave compiled a book out of memoirs, which he received from 
another, of vastly superior knowledge in the subject of it, espe- 
cially if it were a book full of great intricacies and difficulties, 
it would in nowise follow, that one knew the whole meaning of 
the book, from knowing the whole meaning of the compiler; 
for the original memoirs, i. e. the author of them, might have. 
And there would be no degree of presumption, in many cas<35, 
Against supposing him to have, some farther meaning than the 
eompiler saw. To say then, that the Scriptures and the things 
contained in them can have no other or farther meaning, than 
those persons thought or had, who first recited or wrote them, 
is evidently saying, that those persons were the original, proper, 
and sole authors of those books, i. e. that they are not inspired ; 
which is absurd, whilst the authority of these books is under 
examination, i. e. till you have determined they are of no divine 
authority at all. Till this be determined, it must in all reason 
be supposed, not indeed that they have, for this is taking foi 
granted that they are inspired, but that they may have som^j 
Farthei meaning than what the compilers saw or understood 


286 OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART H 

And upon this supposition, it is supposablo also, that this farther 
meaning may be fulfilled. Now events corresponding to pro- 
phecies, interpreted in a dififerent meaning from that in which 
the prophets are supposed to have understood them ; this affords, 
in a manner, the same proof that this dififerent sense was origi- 
nally intended, as it would have afforded, if the prophets had 
not understood their predictions in the sense it is supposed they 
did; because there is no presumption of their sense of them 
being the whole sense of them. And it has been already shown, 
that the apparent completions of prophecy must be allowed to 
be explanatory of its meaning. So that the question is, whether 
a series of prophecy has been fulfilled, in a natural or proper, 
i. e. in any real sense of the words of it. For such completion 
is equally a proof of foresight more than human, whether the 
prophets are, or are not, supposed to have understood it in a 
different sense. I say, supposed ; for though I think it clear, 
that the prophets did not understand the full meaning of their 
predictions, it is another question, how far they thought they 
did, and in what sense they understood them. 

Hence may be seen, to how little purpose those persons busy 
themselves, who endeavour to prove that the prophetic history 
is applicable to events of the age in which it was written, or of 
ages before it. Indeed, to have proved this before there was any 
appearance of a further completion of it, might have answered 
some purpose ; for it might have prevented the expectation of 
any such farther completion. Thus, could Porphyry have shown, 
that some principal parts of the book of Daniel, for instance, 
the seventh verse of the seventh chapter, which the Christians 
interpreted of the latter ages, was applicable to events which 
happened before or about the age of Antiochus Epiphanes ; this 
might have prevented them from expecting any farther com 
pletion of it. And unless there was then, as 1 think there 
must have been, external evidence concerning that book, more 
than is come down to us, such a discovery might have been a 
stumbling-block in the way of Christianity itself; considering 
the authority which our Saviour has given to the book of Daniel, 
and how much the general scheme of Christianity presupposes 
the truth of it. But even this discovery, had there been any 
iuch,* would be of very little weight with reasonable men now ; 

* It appears, that Porphyry did nothing worth mentioning in this 
way. For Jerome on the place says: Duas poiteriores hestias — in wu 
\(ac.t>donum regno ponit. And as to the to’i kings: Decern regas mxi'.ie- 


FOR CURISTIANITY. 


287 


CHAP, vn.] 

if this passage, thus applicable to events before the age of Por- 
phyry, appears to be applicable also to events which succeeded 
the dissolution of the Roman empire. I mention this, not at 
all as intending to insinuate, that the division of this empire 
into ten parts, for it was plainly divided into about that number, 
were, alone and by itself, of any moment in verifying the pro- 
phetic history; but only as an example of the thing 1 am 
speaking of. And thus, upon the whole, the matter of inquiry 
evidently must be, as above put. Whether the prophecies are 
applicable to Christ, and to the present state of the world and 
of the church ; applicable in such a degree as to imply foresight ; 
not whether they are capable of any other application ; though 
I know no pretence for saying, the general turn of them is 
capable of any other. 

These observations are, I think, just, and the evidence referred 
to in them, real ; though there may be people who will not ac- 
cept of such imperfect information from Scripture. Some too 
nave not integrity and regard enough to truth, to attend to evi- 
dence, which keeps the mind in doubt, perhaps perplexity, and 
which is much of a different sort from what they expected 
And it plainly requires a degree of modesty and fairness, be 
yond what every one has, for a man to say, not to the world, 
but to himself, that there is a real appearance of somewhat 
of great weight in this matter, though he is not able thoroughly 
to satisfy himself about it ; but it shall have its influence upon 
him, in proportion to its appearing reality and weight. It is 
much more easy, and more falls in with the negligence, pre- 
sumption, and wilfulness of the generality, to determine at once, 
with a decisive air, there is nothing in it. The prejudices arising 
from that absolute contempt and scorn, with which this evidence 
is treated in the world, I do not mention. For what indeed 
can be said to persons, who are weak enough in their under- 
standings to think this any presumption against it; or, if they 
do not, are yet weak enough in their temper to be influenced by 
such prejudices, upon such a subject ? 

I shall now, Secondly^ Endeavour to give some account cf 
the general argument for the truth of Christianity, consisting 
both of the direct and circumstantial evidence, considered aa 

raty qui, fuerunt sosvissini; ipsosque reges non unius ponit regni, verh 
gratia, Macedonioe, Sgriody Asice, et Egypti ; sed de diversis Kgnis unurn 
regum ardinem. And in this way of interpretation, any thinj 
may be made of any thing. 


288 OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART 13. 

making up one argument. Indeed to state and examine this 
argument fully, would be a work much beyond the compass of 
this whole treatise; nor is so much as a proper abridgment of it 
to be expected here Yet the present subject requires to have 
some brief account of it given. For it is the kind of evidence 
upon which most questions of difficulty, in common practice, 
are determined; evidence arising from various coincidences, 
which support and confirm each other, and in this manner prove, 
ifith more or less certainty, the point under consideration. And 
[ choose to do it also : Jirst, because it seems to be of the greatest 
importance, and not duly attended to by every one, that the 
proof of revelation is,, not some direct and express things only, 
but a great variety of circumstantial things also ; and that though 
each of these direct and circumstantial things is indeed to be 
considered separately, yet they are afterwards to be joined to- 
gether ; for that the proper force of the evidence consists in the 
result of those several things, considered in their respects to 
each other, and united into one view; and, in the next place, 
because it seems to me, that the matters of fact here set down, 
which are acknowledged by unbelievers, must be acknowledged 
by them also to contain together a degree of evidence of great 
weight, if they could be brought to lay these several things be- 
fore themselves distinctly, and then with attention consider them 
together ; instead of that cursory thought of them, to which we 
are familiarized. For being familiarized to the cursory thought 
of things, as really hinders the weight of them from being seen, 
as from having its due influence upon practice. 

The thing asserted, and the truth of which is to be inquired 
into, is this: that over and above our reason and affections, 
which God has given us for the information of our judgment 
and the conduct of our lives, he has also, by external revelation, 
given us an account of himself and his moral government over 
the world, implying a future state of rewards and punishments ; 
i. e. hath revealed the system of natural religion ; for natural 
religion may be externally* revealed by God, as the ignorant 
may be taught it by mankind, their fellow-creatures — that God, 
[ say, has given us the evidence of revelation, as well as the 
evidence of reason, to ascertain this moral system; together 
with an account of a particular dispensation of Providenee, 
which reason cmld no way have discovered, and a particular iiir 


Page 199, &c. 


CHAP. YII ] 


FOR CURISTIANITY, 


289 


stitution of religion founded on it, for the recovery of mankind 
out of their present wretched condition, and raising them to the 
perfection and final happiness of their nature. 

This revelation, whether real or supposed, may be considered 
as wholly historical. For prophecy is nothing but the history 
of events before they come to pass : doctrines also are matters 
of fact : and precepts come under the same notion. And the 
general design of Scripture, which contains in it this revelation, 
thus considered as historical, may be said to be, to give us an 
account of the world, in this one single view, as God's world ; 
by which it appears essentially distinguished from all other 
books, so far as I have found, except such as are copied from it. 
It begins with an account of God’s creation of the world, in order 
to ascertain and distinguish from all others, who is the object 
of our worship, by what he has done ; in order to ascertain who 
he is, concerning whose providence, commands, promises, and 
threatenings, this sacred book all along treats ; the Maker and 
Proprietor of the world, he whose creatures we are, the God of 
Nature : in order likewise to distinguish him from the idols of 
the nations, which are either imaginary beings, i, e. no beings at 
all ; or else part of that creation, the historical relation of which 
is here given. And St. John, laot improbably with an eye to 
this Mosaic account of the creation, begins his gospel with an 
account of our Saviour’s pre-existence, and that “ all things were 
made hy him, and without him was not anything made that was 
made agreeably to the doctrine of St. Paul, that God 
created all things by Jesus Christ.”^ This being premised, 
the Scripture, taken together, seems to profess to contain a kind 
of an abridgment of the history of the world, in the view just 
now mentioned ; i. e. a general account of the condition of reli- 
gion and its professors, during the continuance of that apostacy 
from God, and state of wickedness, which it every where sup- 
poses the world to lie in. And this account of the state of reli- 
gion carries with it some brief account of the political state of 
things, as religion is affected by it. Revelation indeed considers 
the common affairs of this world, and what is going on in it, as 
a mere scene of distraction, and cannot be supposed to concern 
itself with foretelling at what time Rome, or Babylon, or 
Greece, or any particular place, should be the most conspicuous 
Beat of that tyranny and dissoluteness, which all places equally 

• John i. 3. 


25 


f Epli. iii. 9. 


‘!90 OF THE PAKTIOULAR EVIDENCE fPART H 

ftspire to be ; cannot, I say, be supposed to give any account of 
this wild scene for its own sake. But it seems to contain some 
very general account of the chief governments of the world, as 
the general state of religion has been, ia. or shall be, affected by 
them, from the first transgression, and during the whole interval 
of the world’s continuing in its present state, to a certain future 
pejyod, spoken of both in the Old and New Testament, very 
distinctly, and in great variety of expr-^ion : “ The times oj 
the restitution of all things:”* when ‘OAe mystery of God 
shall befnished, as he hath declared to his servants the pro- 
phets ,*”f when “ the God of heaven sk '*11 set up a kingdom 
which shall never he destroyed; and the kingdom shall not he 
left to other peoplefX as it is represented to be during this 
apostacy, but ^fudgment shall he given t-o the saints”^ and 
they shall reign ;”\\ and the kingdom and dominion^ and 
the greatness of the kingdom under the wMe heaven, shall bt 
given to the people of the saints of the Most High”*^ 

Upon this general view of the Scripture, I would remark, 
how great a length of time the whole relatien takes up, near 
six thousand years of which are past : and how great a variety 
of things it treats of ; the natural and moral system or history 
of the world, including the time when it was formed, all con- 
tained in the very first book, and evidently written in a rude and 
unlearned age ; and in subsequent books, the various common 
and prophetic history, and the particular dispensation of Chris- 
tianity. Now all this together gives the largest scope for criti- 
cism ; and for confutation of what is capable of being confuted, 
either from reason, or from common history, or from any incon- 
sistence in its several parts. And it is a thing which deserves, 
I think, to be mentioned, that whereas some imagine, the sup- 
posed doubtfulness of the evidence for revelation implies a posi- 
tive argument that it is not true ] it appears, on the contrary, to 
imply a positive argument that it is true, bor could any com- 
mon relation, of such antiquity, extent, and variety, (for in 
these things the stress of what I am now observing lies) be 
proposed to the examination of the world ] that U could not, 
in an age of knowledge and liberty, be confuted, or shown t<j 
have nothing in it, to the satisfaction of reasonable men; this 
«rould be thought a strong presumptive proof of its i^-uth. Ana 


f Da» ii. 
f Dap •«« 


* Acts iii. 21. 
S Dan. vii, 22 


f Rev. X. 7. 
11 Rev. 


FOR CHRISTIANITY. 


•291 


CHAP. Vll.] 

indee^l it must be a proof of it, just in proportion to the proba- 
bility, that if it were false, it might be shown to be so ; and this, 
[ think, is scarce pretended to be shown, but upon principles 
and in ways of arguing which have been clearly obviated. 
Nor doos it at all appear, that any set of men who believe natu- 
ral religion, are of the opinion, that Christianity has been thus 
confuted. But to proceed : 

Together with the moral system of the world, the Old Testa* 
nent contains a chronological account of the beginning of it. 
iud from thence, an unbroken genealogy of mankind for many 
ages before common history begins ; and carried on as much 
farther, as to make up a continued thread of history, of the 
length of between three and four thousand years. It contains 
an account of Grod’s making a covenant with a particular nation, 
that they should be his people, and he would be their God, in a 
peculiar sense ; of his often interposing miraculously in their 
afbiirs; giving them the promisCj and, long after, the possession, 
of a particular country; assuring them of the greatest national 
prosperity in it, if they would worship him, in opposition to the 
idols which the rest of the world worshipped, and obey his com- 
mands, and threatening them with unexampled punishments, if 
they disobeyed him, and fell into the general idolatry; inso- 
much, that this one nation should continue to be the observation 
and the wonder of all the world. It declares particularly, that 
^^God would scalier them among all people, from one end, of 
the earth unto the other f but that when they should return 
unto the Lord their God, he would have compassion upon them, 
and, gather them, from all the nations whither he had scattered 
them ; that Israel should be saved in the Lord, ivith an ever- 
lasting salvation, and not be ashamed or confounded, world 
without end*^ And as some of those promises are conditional, 
others are as absolute as any thing can be expressed, that the 
time should come, when the people should be all righteous, 
and inherit the land for ever ; that though God would make a 
full end of all nations whither he had scattered them, yet 
would he not make a full end of them : that he would bring 
again the Japtivity of his people Israel, and plant them upon their 
land, and they should he no more pulled up out of their land ; 
hat the seed of Israel should not cease from being a nation 
for everdf It foretells that God would raise them up a par 

f Deut. xxviii. Gt. Ch. xxx. 2, 3. Isa. xlv. 17. Ch. lx 21. Jer 
sxx 11 Ch. xivi. 28 Amos ix. 15. Jer. xxxi. 3G. 


291i 


OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART II 

ticular pi.rson, in whom all his promises should finally be ful- 
filled ; the Messiah, who should be, in a high and eminent sense, 
their anointed Prince and Saviour. This was foretold in such 
a manner, as raised a general expectation of such a person in 
the nation, as appears from the New Testament, and is aa 
acknowledged fact ; an expectation of his coming at such a par- 
ticular time, before any one appeared claiming to be that person, 
and when there was no ground for such an expectation but from 
the prophecies ; which expectation, therefore, must in all reason 
be presumed to be explanatory of those prophecies, if there 
were any doubt about their meaning. It seems moreover to 
foretell, that this person should be rejected by that nation, to 
whom he had been so long promised, and though he was so 
much desired by them.* And it expressly foretells, that he 
should be the Saviour of the Grentiles ; and even that the com- 
pletion of the scheme contained in this book, and then begun 
and in its progress, should be somewhat so great, that, in com- 
parison with it, the restoration of the Jews alone would be but 
of small account : It is a light thing that thou shouldst he my 
servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob, and to restore the pre- 
served of Israel : 1 will also give thee for a light to the Gen- 
tiles, that thou mayest be for salvation unto the end of the 
earth” And, In the last days, the mountain of the Lord’s 
house shall be established in the top of the mountains, and 
<hall be exalted above the hills ; and all nations shall flow into 
•d — for out of Zion shall go forth the law, and the word of 
the Lord from Jerusalem. Jlnd he shall judge among the 
nations — and the Lord alone shall be exalted in that day, and 
the idols he shall utterly abolish.’f The Scripture farther con- 
tains an account, that at the time the Messiah was expected, a 
person rose up, in this nation, claiming to bo that Messiah, to 
be the person whom all the prophets referred to, and in whom 
they should centre; that he spent some years in a continued 
course of miraculous works, and endued his imn:«diate disciples 
and followers with a power of doing the same, as a proof of 
the truth of that religion which he commissioned them to pub- 
lish; that, invested with this authority and power, they made 

• Isa. viii. 14, 15. Ch. xlix. 5. Ch. liii. Mai. i. 10, 11, and Cii. iii. 

t Isa. xlix. G. Ch. ii. Ch. xi. Ch, Ivi. 7. Mai. i. 11. — To which 
must be added, the other prophecies of the like kind, several in the 
Now T 2 stament, and very many in the Old, which describe what ibal} 
be die completion of the revealed plan of Providence. 


FOR CHRISTIANITY. 


‘293 


JIIAIV VII. j 

numerous converts in the remotest countries, and settleu And 
established his religion in the world; to the end of which, the 
Scripture professes to give a prophetic account of the state of 
this religion amongst mankind. 

Let us now suppose a person utterly ignorant of history, to 
have all this related to him ouf of the Scripture. Or suppose 
such a one, having the Scripture put into his hands, to remark 
heso things in it, not knowing but that the whole, even its 
ivil history, as well as the otfcr parts of it, might be, from 
DCginning to end, an entire invention ; and to ask. What truth 
was in it, and whether the revelation here related was real, or 
a fiction ? And instead of a direct answer, suppose him, all at 
once, to be told the following confessed facts ; and then to unite 
them into one view. 

Let him first be told, in how great a degree the profession 
and establishment of natural religion, the belief that there is 
one God to be worshipped, that virtue is his law, and that man- 
kind shall be rewarded and punished hereafter, as they obey 
and disobey it here ; in how very great a degree, I say, the pro- 
fession and establishment of this moral system in the world, is 
owing to the revelation, whether real or supposed, contained in 
this book ; the establishment of this moral system, even in those 
countries which do not acknowledge the proper authority of the 
Scripture.* Let him be told also what number of nations do 
acknowledge its proper authority. Let him then take in the 
consideration, of what importance religion is to mankind. And 
upon these things, he might, I think, truly observe, that this 
supposed revelation^s obtaining and being received in the world, 
with all the circumstances and effects of it, considered together 
as one event, is the most conspicuous and important event in 
the story of mankind : that a book of this nature, and thus 
promulged and recommended to our consideration, demands, as 
if by a voice from heaven, to have its claims most seriously 
examined into; and that before such examination, to treat it 
with any kind of scoffing and ridicule is an offence against natu- 
ral piety. But it is to be remembered, that how much soevei 
the establishment of natural religion in the world is owing to 
the Scripture revelation, this does not destroy the proof of reli- 
gion from reason; any more than the proof of Euclid's Ele- 
nents is destroyed, by a man^s knowing or thinking, that he 


25 


* Page 268. 


294 OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART H. 

should never have seen the truth of the several propositions 
contained in it, nor had those propositions come into his thoughts, 
tut for that mathematician. 

Let such a person as we are speaking of, be, in the next place, 
informed of the acknowledged antiquity of the first parts of 
this book ; and that its chronol^Jgy, its account of the time when 
the earth, and the several parts of it, were first peopled with 
human creatures, is no way contradicted, but is really confirmed, 
by the natural and civil history of the world, collected from 
common historians, from the state of the earth, and from tho 
late invention of arts and sciences. And as the Scripture com 
tain^ an unbroken thread of common and civil history, from 
the creation to the captivity, for between three and four thousand 
years; let the person we are speaking of be told, in the next 
place, that this general history, as it is not contradicted, but is 
confirmed by profane history, as much as there would be reason 
to expect, upon supposition of its truth ; so there is nothing in 
the whole history itself to give any reasonable ground of sus- 
picion of its not being, in the general, a faithful and literally 
true genealogy of men, and series of things. I speak here only 
of the common Scripture history, or of the course of ordinary 
events related in it, as distinguished from miracles, and from 
the prophetic history. In all the Scripture narrations of this 
kind, following events arise out of foregoing ones, as in all other 
histories. There appears nothing related as done in any age, 
not conformable to the manners of that age ; nothing in the 
account of a succeeding age, which one would say could not be 
true, or was improbable, from the account of things in the pre- 
ceding one. There is nothing in the characters which would 
raise a thought of their being feigned; but all the internal 
marks imaginable of their being real. It is to be added also, 
that mere genealogies, bare narratives of the number of years 
which persons called by such and such names lived, do not carry 
the face of fiction; perhaps do carry some presumption of 
veracity : and all unadorned narratives, which have nothing to 
surprise, may be thought to carry somewhat of the like presump- 
tion too. And the domestie and the political history is plainly 
credible. There may be incidents in Scripture, which, taken 
alone in the naked way they are told, may appear strange, espe- 
cially to persons of other manners, temper, education ; but there 
are also incidents of undoubted truth, in many of most persons’ 
liveSj which, in the same circumstances, would appear to the full 


FOR CHRISTIANITY. 


295 


VHAP. VII.] 

US strange.* There may be mistakes of transcribers, there may 
be other rea. or seeming mistakes, not easy to be particulariy 
accounted for ; but there are certainly no more things of this 
kind in the Scripture, than what were to have been expected in 
books of sucli antiquity ; and nothing, in any wise, sufficient 
to discredit the general narrative. Now, that a history claiming 
to commence from the creation, and extending in one continued 
series through so great a length of time, and variety of events, 
should have such appearances of reality and truth in its whole 
contexture, is surely a very remarkable circumstance in its favour. 
And as all this is applicable to the common history of the New 
Testament, so there is a farther credibility, and a very high one, 
given to it by profane auithors ; many of these writing of the 
same times, and confirming the truth of customs and events, 
which are incidentally, as weil as more purposely mentioned in 
it. And this credibility o( the common Scripture history gives 
nome credibility to its miraculous history : especially as this is 
mterwoven with the common, so as that they imply each other, 
md both together make ^p one relation. 

Let it then be more purticularly observed to this person, that 
it is an acknowledged rr atter of fact, which is indeed implied in 
the foregoing observatinn, that there was such a nation as the 
Tews, of the greateat r-ntiquity, whose government and general 
polity W9S founded or. the law, here related to be given them 
vy Moses fs fronr. heaven : that natural religion, though with 

* [See this presented in a most agreeable and lively form 

the Archbishop of Dublin’s “Historic Doubts” concerning Napo- 
«on Bonaparte. Compare the following conversation given in Bos- 
rell’s Life of Johnson (Ann. 1763) : Talking of those who deny the 
«*uth of Christianity, he said, ‘ It is always easy to be on the negative 

tide I deny that Canada is taken, and I can support my 

denial by pretty good arguments. The French are a much more 
lumerous people than we ; and it is not likely that they would allow 
as to take it.’ ‘ But the ministry have assured us, in all the formality 
»f a Gazette, that it is taken.’ ‘ Very true. But the ministry have 
put us to an enormous expense by the war in America, and it is their 
nterest to persuade us that we have got something for our money.’ 

But the fact is confirmed by thousands of men who were at the 
making of it.’ ‘ Ay, but these men have still more interest in deceiving 
IS. They don’t want that you should think the French have beat 
them, but that they have beat the French. Now, suppose you should 
over and find that it really is taken ; that would only satisfy your- 
lelf ; for when you come ba.ik we will not believe you. We wiD eaj 
fou have been brioeJ.'’ — F.J 


296 


OP THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART 11 

rites additional, yet no way contrary to it, was their established 
religion, which cannot be said of the Gentile world ; and that 
their very being, as a nation, depended upon their acknowledg- 
ment of one God, the God of the universe. For suppose, in 
their captivity in Babylon, they had gone over to the religion 
of their conquerors, there would have remained no bond of 
union, to keep them a distinct people. And whilst they were 
under their own kings in their own country, a total apostacj 
from God would have been the dissolution of their whole govern- 
ment. They, in such a sense, nationally acknowledged and 
worshipped the Maker of heaven and earth, when the rest of 
the world were sunk in idolatry, as rendered them, in fact, the 
peculiar people of God. And this, so remarkable an establish- 
ment and preservation of natural religion amongst them, seems 
to add some peculiar credibility to the historical evidence for 
the miracles of Moses and the prophets; because these mira- 
cles are a full satisfactory account of this event, which plainly 
wants to be accounted for, and cannot otherwise. 

Let this person, supposed wholly ignorant of history, be ac- 
quainted farther, that one claiming to be the Messiah, of Jewish 
extraction, rose up at the time when this nation, from the pro- 
phecies above-mentioned, expected the Messiah : that he was 
rejected, as it seemed to have been foretold he should, by the 
body of the people, under the direction of their rulers: that 
in the course of a very few years he was believed on, and ac- 
knowledged as the promised Messiah, by great numbers among 
the Gentiles, agreeably to the prophecies of Scripture, yet not 
upon the evidence of prophecy, but of miracles,* of which mira- 
cles we also have strong historical evidence ; (by which I mean 
here no more than must be acknowledged by unbelievers ; for 
let pious frauds and follies be admitted to weaken, it is absurd 
to say they destroy, our evidence of miracles wrought in proof 
of Christianity ) that this religion approving itself to the reason 
of mankind, and carrying its own evidence with it, so far as 
reason is a judge of its system, and being no way contrary to 
reason in those parts of it which require to be believed upon the 
mere authority of its Author ; that this religion, I say, gradually 
spread and supported itself, for some hundred years, not only 
without any assistance from temporal power, but under constant 
iiscouragements, and often the bitterest persecutions from it. 


* Page 276, &c. 


f Page 281, &o 


OHAP. VII.J 


FOR CHRISTIANITY. 


297 


and then became the religion of the world : that in the mean 
time, the Jewish nation and government were destroyed in a 
very remarkable manner, and the people carried away captive 
and dispersed through the most distant countries ; in which state 
of dispersion they have remained fifteen hundred years : and 
that they remain a numerous people, united amongst themselves, 
and distinguished from the rest of the world, as they were in 
the days of Moses, by the profession of his law; and every where 
looked upon in a manner, which one scarce knows how distinctly 
to express, but in the words of the prophetic account of it, given 
so many ages before it came to pass : Thou shall hecome an 
astonishment, a proverb and a by-tcord, among all nations 
whither the Lord shall lead IheeT^ 

The appearance of a standing miracle, in the Jews remaining 
a distinct people in their dispersion, and the confirmation which 
this event appears to give to the truth of revelation, may be 
thought to be answered by their religion^s forbidding them inter- 
marriages with those of any other, and prescribing them a 
great many peculiarities in their food, by which they are de- 
barred from the means of incorporating with the people in whose 
countries they live. This is not, I think, a satisfactory account 
of that which it pretends to account for. But what does it pre- 
tend to account for ? The correspondence between this event 
and the prophecies ; or the coincidence of both, with a long dis- 
pensation of Providence of a peculiar nature, towards that people 
formerly? No. It is only the event itself which is offered to 
be thus accounted for; which single event taken alone, abstracted 
from all such correspondence and coincidence, perhaps would 
not have appeared miraculous; but that correspondence and 
coincidence may be so, though the event itself be supposed not. 
Thus, the concurrence of our SaviouPs being born at Bethlehem, 
with a long foregoing series of prophecy, and other coincidences, 
is doubtless miraculous — the series of prophecy, and other coin- 
cidences, and the event being admitted : though the event itself, 
his birth at that place, appears to have been brought about in a 
natural way; of which, however, no one can be certain. 

And as several of these events seem, in some degree expressly, 
to have verified the prophetic history already ; so likewise, they 
may bo considered farther, as having a peculiar aspect towards 
dio full completion of it; as afibrding some presumption thal 


* Deut. xxviii. 37. 


298 


OP THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART II 

the whole of it shall one time or other be fulfilled. Thus, that 
the Jews have been so wonderfully preserved in their long and 
wide dispersion ; which is indeed the direct fulfilling of some 
prophecies, but is now mentioned only as looking forward to 
somewhat yet to come ; that natural religion came forth from 
Judea, and spread in the degree it has done over the world, be- 
fore lost in idolatry ; which, together with some other things, 
have distinguished that very place, in like manner as the people 
of it are distinguished : that this great change of religion over 
the earth was brought abou® under the profession and acknow- 
ledgment, that Jesus was the promised Messiah : things of this 
kind naturally turn the thoughts of serious men towards the 
full completion of the prophetic history, concerning the final 
restoration of that people ; concerning the establishment of the 
everlasting kingdom among them, the kingdom of the Messiah ; 
and the future state of the world, under this sacred government. 
Such circumstances and events compared with these prophecies, 
though no completions of them, yet would not, I think, be 
spoken of as nothing in the argument, by a person upon his first 
being informed of them. They fall in with the prophetic his- 
tory of things still future, give it some additional credibility, 
have the appearance of being somewhat in order to the full com- 
pletion of it. 

Indeed, it requires a good degree of knowledge, and great 
calmness and consideration, to be able to judge thoroughly of 
the evidence for the truth of Christianity, from that part of the 
prophetic history which relates to the situation of the kingdoms 
of the world, and to the state of the church, from the establish- 
ment of Christianity to the present time. I3ut it appears, from 
a general view of it, to be very material. And those persons 
who have thoroughly examined it, and some of them were men 
of the coolest tempers, greatest capacities, and least liable to 
imputations of prejudice, insist upon it as determinately conclu- 
sive. 

Suppose now a person quite ignorant of history, first to recol- 
lect the passages above-mentioned out of Scripture without 
knowing but that the whole was a late fiction, then to be in- 
formed of the correspondent facts now mentioned, and to unite 
them all into one view : that the profession and establishment 
of natural religion in the world, is greatly owing, in different 
ways, to this book, and the supposed revelation which it con- 
tttins ; that it is acknowledged to be of the earliest antiquity j 


OHAP VII.] Foa CHRISTIANITF. 2911 

that its chronology and common history are entirely credible ; 
that this ancient nation, the Jews, of whom it shiefly treats, ap- 
pear to have been, in fact, the people of Grod, in a distinguished 
sense ; that, as there was a national expectation amongst them, 
raised from the prophecies, of a Messiah to appear at such a 
time, so one at this time appeared claiming to be that Messiah ; 
that he was rejected by this nation, but received by the Gen- 
tiles, not upon the evidence of prophecy, but of miracles ; that 
the religion he taught supported itself under the greatest diffi- 
culties, gained ground, and at length became the religion of the 
world ; that in the mean time, the Jewish polity was utterly 
destroyed, and the nation dispersed over the face of the earth • 
that, notwithstanding this, they have remained a distinct ano 
numerous people for so many centuries, even to this day; which 
not only appears to be the express completion of several prophe- 
cies concerning them, but also renders it, as one may speak, a 
visible and easy possibility, that the promises made to them as 
a nation, may yet be fulfilled. And to these acknowledged 
truths, let the person we have been supposing add, as I think 
he ought, whether every one will allow it or not, the obvious 
appearances which there are of the state of the world, in other 
respects besides what relates to the Jews, and of the Christian 
church, having so long answered, and still answering to the pro- 
phetic history. Suppose, I say, these facts set over against the 
things before-mentioned out of the Scripture, and seriously com- 
pared with them ; the joint view of both together, must, I think, 
appear of very great weight to a considerate reasonable person ; 
of much greater, indeed, upon having them first laid before him, 
than is easy for us, who are so familiarized to them, to conceive, 
without some particular attention for that purpose. 

All these things, and the several particulars contained under 
them, require to be distinctly and most thoroughly examined 
into; that the weight of each may be judged of, upon such ex- 
amination, and such conclusion drawn as results from their 
united force. But this has not been attempted here. I have 
gone no farther than to show, that the general imperfect view 
of them now given, the confessed historical evidence for mira- 
cles, and the many obvious appearing completions of prophecy, 
together with the collateral things* here mentioned, and there 

• All the particular things mentioned in this Chapter, not reducible 
k) ‘he head of certain miracles t li^jterminato completions of pro 
itLecy See pages 272, 273. 


300 0? THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART II 

are several others of the like sort; that all this together, which, 
being fact, must be ackni. wledged by unbelievers, amounts ta 
real evidence of somewhat more than human in this matter ; 
evidence much more important than careless men, who have 
been accustomed only to transient and partial views of it, can 
imagine ; and indeed abundantly sufficient to act upon. And 
these things, I apprehend, must be acknowledged by unbelievers. 
For though they may say, that the historical evidence of inira- 
pics, wrought in attestation of Christianity, is not sufficient to 
eonvince them that such miracles were really wrought, they 
cannot deny that there is such historical evidence, it being a 
known matter of fact that there is. They may say, the con- 
formity between the prophecies and events is by accident ; but 
there are many instances in which such conformity itself cannot 
be denied. They may say, with regard to such kind of collateral 
things as those above-mentioned, that any odd accidental events, 
without meaning, will have a meaning found in them by fanci- 
ful people ; and that such as are fanciful in any one certain way, 
will make out a thousand coincidences, which seem to favour 
their peculiar follies. Men, I say, may talk thus ; but no one 
who is serious can possibly think these things to be nothing, if 
he considers the importance of collateral things, and even of 
lesser circumstances, in the evidence of probability, as distin- 
guished, in nature, from the evidence of demonstration. In 
many cases, indeed, it seems to require the truest judgment, 
to determine with exactness the weight of circumstantial evi- 
dence ; but it is very often altogether as convincing as that 
which is the most express and direct. 

This general view of the evidence for Christianity, considered 
as making one argument, may also serve to recommend to serious 
persons, to set down every thing which they think may be of 
any real weight at all in proof of it, and particularly the many 
seeming completions of prophecy ; and they will find, that, judg- 
ing by the natural rules by which we judge of probable evidence 
in common matters, they amount to a much higher degree of 
proof, upon such a joint review, than could be supposed upon 
considering them separately, at different times, how strong soeve? 
the proof might before appear to them, upon such separate 
views of it. For probable proofs, by being added, not only 
increase the evidence, but multiply it.* Nor should I dissuade 


f If the thing to be proved have in it an apparent character of 
truth, this constitutes an improbability of its falsehood. If it havs 


FOR CHRISTIANITY. 


30i 


CHAP. VII.] 

any one from setting down what he thought made for the con- 
trary side. But then it is to be remembered, not in order to 
influence his judgment, but his practice, that a mistake on one 
side may be, in its consequences, much more dangerous than a 
mistake on the other. And what course is most safe, and what 
most dangerous, is a consideration thought very material, when 
we deliberate, not concerning events, but concerning conduct in 
l>ur temporal affliirs. To be influenced by this consideration in 
aur judgment, to believe or disbelieve upon it, is indeed as much 
prejudice as any thing whatever. And like other prejudices, it 
operajbes contrary ways in different men. For some are inclined 
to believe what they hope ; and others what they fear. And 
it is manifest unreasonableness, to apply to men's passions, in 
order to gain their assent. But in deliberations concerning 
conduct, there is nothing which reason more requires to be taken 
into the account, than the importance of it. For suppose it 
doubtful what would be the consequence of acting in this, or in 
a contrary manner ; still, that taking one side could be attended 
with little or no bad consequences, and taking the other might 
be attended with the greatest, must appear to unprejudiced 
reason, of the highest moment towards determining how we arc 
to act. But the truth of our religion, like the truth of commoi 
matters, is to be judged of by all the evidence taken together 
And unless the whole series of things which may be alleged in 
this argument, and every particular thing in it, can reasonably 
be supposed to have been by accident, (for here the stress of 
the argument for Christianity lies,) then is the truth of it proved; 
in like manner, as if in any common case, numerous events 
acknowledged, were to be alleged in proof of any other event 
disputed ; the truth of the disputed event would be proved, not 
only if any one of the acknowledged ones did of itself clearly 
imply it, but though no one of them singly did so, if the whole 
of the acknowledged events taken together, could not in reason 


another character of truth, this constitutes another improbability of 
its falsehood. If this were a complete statement of the argument 
to be drawn from the coexistence of the two characters of truth, the 
eecond improbability would only require to be added to the first to 
give the value of the whole. But in reality the argument is much 
stronger. For the improbability that they should simultaneously exist 
in the thing under examination, and yet that thing be false, is evi* 
i^I:tly different from the sum cf the improbabilities that each 
faUly should exist in it if false. — F.] 

2C^ 


oU2 or THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE, &C. [PART IJ 

be «upp)scd to have happened, unless the disputed one were 
true. 

It is obvious, how much advantage the nature of this evidence 
gives b) those persons who attack Christianity, especially in con- 
versation. For it is easy to show, in a short and lively manner, 
that such and such things are liable to objection, that this and 
another thing is of little weight in itself; but impossible to 
^how, in like manner, the united force of the whole argument 
in one view. 

However, lastly, as it has been made appear, that there is no 
presumption against a revelation as miraculous ; that the gene- 
ral scheme of Christianity, and the principal parts of it, are con- 
formable to the experienced constitution of things, and the 
whole perfectly credible ; so the account now given of the posi- 
tive evidence for it shows that this evidence is such as, from the 
nature of it, cannot be destroyed, though it should be lessened. 


CHAF. VIII.] OBJECTIONS AGAINST THE ANALOGY, &C. 80J 


CHAP. VIII. 

Of the Objections which may he made against arguing frc-n. 
the Analogy of Nature to Religion. 

Ie every one would consider, with such attention as they are 
bound, even in point of morality, to consider, what they judge 
and give characters of, the occasion of this chapter would he, in 
some good measure at least, superseded. But since this is not 
to be expected ; for some we find do not concern themselves tc 
understand even what they write against : since this treatise, in 
common with most others, lies open to objections, which may 
appear very material to thoughtful men at first sight ; and, be- 
sides that, seems peculiarly liable to the objections of such as 
can judge without thinking, and of such as can censure without 
judging; it may not be amiss to set down the chief of these 
objections which occur to me, and consider them to their hands. 
And they are such as these : — 

‘‘ That it is a poor thing to solve difficulties in revelation, hy 
saying that there are the same in natural religion ; when what 
is wanting is to clear both of them, of these their common, as 
well as other their respective difficulties : but that it is a strange 
way indeed of convincing men of the obligations of religion, to 
siiow them, that they have as little reason for their worldly pur- 
suits; and a strange way of vindicating the justice and good- 
ness of the Author of Nature, and of removing the objections 
against both, to which the system of religion lies open, to show, 
that the like objections lie against natural providence ; a way 
of answering objections against religion, without so much as 
pretending to make out, that the system of it, or the particular 
things in it objected against, are reasonable — especially, perhaps 
gome may be inattentive enough to add, must this be thought 
sti-ange, when it is confessed, that analogy is no answer to such 
objections ; that when this sort of reasoning is carried to the 
utmost length it can be imagined capable of, it will yet leave 
the mind in a very unsatisfied state ; and that it must be unao- 
•oantable ignmrance of mankind, to imagine they will be pr©- 


S04 OBJECTIONS AGAINST TUE ANALOGY [PART II 

vailed with to forego their present interests and pleasures, from 
regard to religion, upon doubtful evidence.” 

Now, as plausible as this way of talking may appear, that ap* 
pearanee will be found in a great measure owing to half views, 
which show but part of an object, yet show that indistinctly : 
and to undeterminate language. By these means weak men 
are often deceived by others, and ludicrous men by themselvea 
And even those who are serious and considerate, cannot always 
readily disentangle, and at once clearly , see through the per- 
plexities in which subjects themselves are involved; and which 
are heightened by the deficiencies and the abuse of words. To 
this latter sort of persons, the following reply to each part of 
this objection severally, may be of some assistance ; as it may 
also tend a little to stop and silence others. 

FHrst, The thing wanted, i. e. what men require, is to have 
all difficulties cleared. And this is, or at least for any thing 
we know to the contrary, it may be, the same, as requiring to 
comprehend the Divine nature, and the whole plan of Provi- 
dence from everlasting to everlasting. But it hath always been 
allowed to argue, from what is acknowledged to what is dis- 
puted. And it is in no other sense a poor thing, to argue from 
natural religion to revealed, in the manner found fiiult with, 
than it is to argue in numberless other ways of probable deduc- 
tion and inference, in matters of conduct, which we are con- 
tinually reduced to the necessity of doing. Indeed the epithet 
poor may be applied, I fear, as properly to great part, or the 
whole, of human life, as it is to the things mentioned in the 
objection. Is it not a poor thing for a physician to have so little 
knowledge in the cure of diseases, as even the most eminent 
have ? to act upon conjecture and guess, where the life of man 
is concerned? Undoubtedl}^ it is: but not in comparison of 
having no skill at all in that useful art, and being obliged to act 
wholly in the dark. 

Further : since it is as unreasonable, as it is common, to urge 
objections against revelation, which are of equal weight against 
natural religion ; and those who do this, if they are not confuted 
themselves, deal unfairly with others, in making it seem that 
they are arguing only against revelation, or particular doctrines 
of it, when in reality they are arguing against moral Providence; 
it is a thing of consequence to show, that such objections are as 
much levelled against natural religion, as against revealed. And 
objections, whieh are equally applicable to bcth, aro profvcrl) 


OP NATURE TO RELIGION 


805 


JHAP VIII.] 

speaking answered, by its being shown that they are so, provided 
the former be admitted to be true. And without taking in the 
consideration, how distinctly this is admitted, it is plainly very 
material to observe, that as the things objected against in natural 
religion, are of the same kind with what is certain matter of ex- 
perience in the course of providence, and in the information 
which God affords us concerning our temporal interest undei 
his government; so the objections against the system of Chris- 
tianity and the evidence of it, are of the very same kind with 
those which are made against the system and evidence of natural 
religion. However, the reader upon review may see, that most 
cf the analogies insisted upon, even in the latter part of thi^ 
treatise, do not necessarily require to have more taken foi 
granted than is in the former; that there is an Author of 
Nature, or natural Governor of the world : and Christianity is 
vindicated, not from its analogy to natural religion, but chiefly, 
from its analogy to the experienced constitution of nature. 

Secondly, Religion is a practical thing, and consists in such 
a determinate course of life ; as being what, there is reason to 
think, is commanded by the Author of Nature, and will, upon 
the whole, be our happiness under his government. Now if 
men can be convinced, that they have the like reason to be- 
lieve this, as to believe, that taking care of their temporal 
affairs will be to their advantage ; such conviction cannot but 
be an argument to them for the practice of religion. And if 
there be really any reason for believing one of these, and en- 
deavouring to preserve life, and secure ourselves the necessaries 
md conveniences of it ; then there is reason also for believing 
the other, and endeavouring to secure the interest it proposes to 
us. And if the interest which religion proposes to us, be infi- 
nitely greater than our whole temporal interest, then there must 
be proportionably greater reason for endeavouring to secure one 
than the other: since, by the supposition, the probability of our 
securing one, is equal to the probability of our securing the 
other. This seems plainly unanswerable ; and has a tendency 
to influence fair minds, who consider what our condition really 
is, or upon what evidence we are naturally appointed to act ; and 
who are disposed to acquiesce in the terms upon which we live, 
and attend to and follow that practical instruction, whatever it 
be, which is afforded us. 

Rut the chief and proper force of the argument referred to in 
the objection, lies in another place. For it is said, that tLfi 
26 * 


SOB OlWECTIONS AGAINST THE ANALOGY [PART U 

proof of religion is involved in such inextricable difficulties, 
as to render it doubtful ; and that it cannot be supposed, that, 
if it were true, it would be left upon doubtful evidence. Here 
then, over and above the force of each particular difficulty or 
objection, these difficulties and objections taken together, are 
turned into a positive argument against the truth of religion ; 
which argument would stand thus. — If religion were true, it 
would not be left doubtful, and open to objections to the degnje 
in which it is : therefore, that it is thus left, not only rendei« 
the evidence of it weak, and lessens its force in proportion to 
the weight of such objections; but also shows it to be false, or 
is a general presumption of its being so. Now the observation, 
that from the natural constitution and course of things, we must 
in our temporal concerns, almost continually, and in matters of 
great consequence, act upon evidence of a like kind and degree 
to tie evidence of religion, is an answer to this argument; be- 
cause it shows, that it is according to the conduct and character 
of the Author of Nature, to appoint we should act upon evidence 
like to that, which this argument presumes he cannot be sup- 
posed to appoint we should act upon : it is an instance, a general 
one made up of numerous particular ones, of somewhat in his 
dealing with us, similar to what is said to be incredible. And 
as the force of this answer lies merely in the parallel which 
there is between the evidence for religion and for our temporal 
conduct, the answer is equally just and conclusive; whether the 
parallel be made out, by showing the evidence of the former to 
be higher, or the evidence of the latter to be lower. 

Thirdly, The design of this treatise is not to vindicate the 
character of God, but to show the obligations of men : it is not 
to justify his providence, but to show what belongs to us to do. 
These are two subjects, and ought not to be confounded. And 
though they may at length run up into each other, yet observa- 
tions may immediately tend to make out the latter, which do 
not appear, by any immediate connection, to the purpose of the 
former ; which is less our concern than many seem to think. 
For, first. It is not necessary we should justify the dispensa- 
tions of Providence against objections, any farther than to show, 
that the things objected against may, for aught we know, be 
consistent with justice and goodness. Suppose then, that there 
Me things, in the system of this world, and plan of Providence 
relating to it, which taken alone would be unjust; yet it has 
Wn «hown unanswerably, that if we could take in the reference 


CHAP. VIII.J OF NATURE TO RELIGION 30? 

which these things may have, to other things present, past and 
to come ; to the whole scheme, which the things objected against 
are parts of; these very things might, for aught we know, be 
found to be, not only consistent with justice, but instances of it. 
Indeed, it; has been shown, by the analogy of what we see, not 
only possible that this may be the case, but credible that it is. 
And thus, objections, drawn from such things, are answered, 
and Providence is vindicated, as far as religion makes its vindi« 
cation necessary. Hence it appears, secondly, That objections 
against the divine justice and goodness are not endeavoured to 
be removed, by showing that the like objections, allowed to be 
’"eally conclusive, lie against natural providence ; but those objec- 
tions being supposed, and shown not to be conclusive, the things 
objected against, considered as matters of fact, are farther shown 
to be credible, from their conformity to the constitution of 
nature ; for instance, that God will reward and punish men for 
their actions hereafter, from the observation, that he does reward 
and punish them for their actions here. And this, I apprehend, 
is of weight. And I add, thirdly. It would be of weight, even 
though those objections were not answered. For, there being 
the proof of religion above set down, and religion implying 
several facts ; for instance again, the fact last mentioned, that 
God will reward and punish men for their actions hereafter ; 
the observation that his present method of government is by 
rewards and punishments, shows that future fact not to be in- 
credible : whatever objections men may think they have against 
it, as unjust or unmerciful, according to their notions of justice 
and mercy; or as improbable from their belief of necessity. 
I say, as improbable, for it is evident no objection against it, as 
unjust, can be urged from necessity ; since this notion as much 
destroys injustice, as it does justice. Then, fourthly. Though 
objections against the reasonableness of the system of religion, 
cannot indeed be answered without entering into consideration 
df its reasonableness, yet objections against the credibility or 
rt-uth of it, may: Because the system of it is reducible into 
what 's properly matter of fact; and the truth, the probable 
truth, of facts, may be shown without consideration of their 
I'easonableness. Nor is it necessary, though in some cases and 
respects, it is highly useful and proper, yet it is not necessary, 
to ^ve a proof of the reasonableness of every precept enjoined 
as* ued of every particular dispensation of Providence which 
into the system of religion. Indeed, the more thoroughly 


308 


OBJECTIONS AGAINST THE ANALOGY [PART II 

a person of a right disposition is convinced of the perfection of 
the Divine nature and conduct, the farther he will advance 
towards that perfection of religion which St. John* speaks of. 
But the general obligations of religion are fully made out, by 
proving the reasonableness of the practice of it. And that the 
practice of religion is reasonable, may be shown, though no more 
could be proved than that the system of it may be so, for aught 
we know to the contrary; and even without entering into th< 
distinct consideration of this. And from hence, fifthly. It is 
easy to see, that though the analogy of nature is not an imme- 
diate answer to objections against the wisdom, the justice, or 
goodness, of any doctrine or precept of religion, yet it may be, 
as it is, an immediate and direct answer to what is really intended 
by such objections ; which is to show, that the things objected 
against are incredible. 

Fourthly j It is mostly readily acknowledged, that the fore- 
going treatise is by no means satisfactory ; very fiir indeed from 
it : Wt so would any natural institution of life appear, if reduced 
into a system, together with its evidence. Leaving religion out 
of the case, men are divided in their opinions, whether our 
pleasures overbalance our pains ; and whether it be, or be not, 
eligible to live in this world. And were all such controversies 
settled, which perhaps, in speculation, would be found involved 
in great difficulties ; and were it determined, upon the evidence 
of reason, as nature has determined it to our hands, that life is 
to be preserved ; yet still, the rules which Grod has been pleased 
to afford us, for escaping the miseries of it, and obtaining its 
satisfactions, the rules, for instance, of preserving health, and 
recovering it when lost, are not only fallible and precarious, but 
very far from being exact. Nor are we informed by nature, in 
future contingencies and accidents, so as to render it at all cer- 
tain, what is the best method of managing our affairs. What 
will be the success of our temporal pursuits, in the common 
sense of the word success, is highly doubtful. And what will 
be the success of them in the proper sense of the word ; i. e. 
what happiness or enjoyment we shall obtain by them, is doubt- 
ful in a much higher degree. Indeed, the unsatisfactory nature 
of the evidence, with which we are obliged to take up, in the 
daily course of life, is scarce to be expressed. Yet men do not 
throw away life, or disregard the interest of it, upon account of 


* 1 John iv. 18. 


^UAt». vin.j 


OF NATURE TO RELIGION. 


309 


this doubtfulness. The evidence of religion then being {admitted 
reul, tnose who object against it, as not satisfactory, i. e. as not 
being wnat they wush it, plainly forget the very condition of our 
being : xbr satisfaction, in this sense, does not belong to such a 
creature as man. And, which is more material, they forget 
also the very nature of religion. For, religion presupposes, in 
all those who will embrace it, a certain degree of integrity and 
honesty ; which it was intended to try whether men have or not, 
and to exercise, in such as have it, in order to its improvement 
Religion presupposes this as much, and in the same sense, as 
speaking to a man presupposes he understands the language in 
which you speak ; or as warning a man of any danger, presup» 
poses that he hath such a regard to himself as that he will en- 
deavour to avoid it. And therefore, the question is not at all. 
Whether the evidence of religion be satisfactory : but Whether 
t be, m reason, sufficient to prove and discipline that virtue 
which it presupposes ? Now the evidence of it is fully sufficient 
for all those purposes of probation ; how far soever it is from 
being satisfactory, as to the purposes of curiosity, or any other : 
and indeed it answers the purposes of the former in several 
respects, which it would not do, if it were as overbearing as is 
required. One might add farther, that whether the motives or 
the evidence of any course of action be satisfactory, meaning 
here by that word, what satisfies a man, that such a course of 
action will in event be for his good; this need never be, and I 
think, strictly speaking, never is, the practical question in com- 
mon matters. But the practical question in all cases is, Whe- 
ther the evidence for a course of action be such, as taking in all 
eircumstances, makes the faculty within us which is the guide 
and judge of conduct,* determine that course of action to be 
prudent 'i Indeed, satisfaction that it will be for our interest or 
happiness, abundantly determines an action to be prudent; but 
evidence, almost infinitely lower than this, determines actions to 
be so too, even in the conduct of every day. 

Fifthly, As to the objection concerning the influence which 
tliis argument, or any part of it, may or may not be expected to 
have upon men, I observe, as above, that religion being intended 
for a trial and exercise of the morality of every person’s cha- 
racter, who is a subject of it; and there being, as I have shown 
mch evidence for it, as is sufficient in reason, to influence mei 


* Sec Dissortation IL 


310 OB-rECTTONS AGAINST THE ANALOGY [PART 11. 

to embrace itj to object, that it is not to be imagined mankind 
will be influenced by such evidence, is nothing to the purpose 
of the foregoing treatise. For the purpose of it is not to in- 
quire, what sort of creatures mankind are; but, what the light 
and knowledge, which is afforded them, requires they should 
be : to show how, in reason, they ought to behave ; not how, in 
fact, they will behave. This depends upon themselves, and is 
their own concern ; the personal concern of each man in parti- 
cular. And how little regard the generality have to it, expe- 
rience indeed -does too fully show. But religion, considered as 
a probation, has had its ends upon all persons, to whom it has 
been proposed, with evidence sufficient in reason to influence 
their practice ; for by this means they have been put into a 
state of probation, let them behave as they will in it. And thus, 
not only revelation, but reason also, teaches us, that by the evi- 
dence of religion being laid before men, the designs of Provi- 
dence are carrying on, not only with regard to those who will, 
but likewise with regard to those who will not, be influenced by 
it. However, lastly, the objection here referred to, allows the 
things insisted upon in this treatise to be of some weight; and 
if so, it may be hoped it will have some influence. And if there 
be a probability that it will have any at all, there is the same 
reason in kind, though not in degree, to lay it before men, as 
there would be, if it were likely to have a greater influence. 

And farther, I desire it may be considered, with respect to 
the whole of the foregoing objections, that in this treatise I have 
argued upon the principles of others,* not my own ; and have 
omitted what I think true, and of the utmost importance, be- 
cause by others thought unintelligible, or not true. Thus I 
have argued upon the principles of the Fatalists, which I do not 
believe ; and have omitted a thing of the utmost importance, 
which I do believe — the moral fitness and unfitness of actions, 
prior to all will whatever : which I apprehend as certainly to 
determine the Divine conduct, as speculative truth and falsehood 
necessarily determine the Divine judgment. Indeed, the prin- 
ciple of liberty, and that of moral fitness, so force themselves 
upon the mind, that moralists, the ancients as well as me^leiT;^, 

* By arguing upon the principles of others, the readei' will observe ia 
meant, not proving any thing /row those principles, but notwithstanding 
ihem. Thus religion is proved, not from the opinion of necessity, 
which is absurd, but notwithstanding, or even though, that opinion wew 
admitted to be true 


CHAP. Vlll.j OF NATURE TO RELIGION. 311 

have formed their lan^age upon it. And probably it may ap* 
pear in mine, though I have endeavoured to avoid it ; and, in 
wder to avoid it, have sometimes been obliged to express my- 
self in a manner which will appear strange to such as do not 
observe the reason for it; but the general argument here pur- 
sued, does not at all suppose, or proceed upon, these principles. 
Now, these two abstract principles of liberty and moral fitness 
being omitted, religion can be considered in no other view than 
merely as a question of fact ; and in this view it is here con 
ididered. It is obvious that Christianity, and the proof of it, are 
both historical. And even natural religion is properly a matter 
of fact. For, that there is a righteous Governor of the world, 
is so ; and this proposition contains the general system of natural 
religion. But then, several abstract truths, and in particular 
those two principles, are usually taken into consideration in the 
proof of it ; whereas it is here treated of only as a matter of 
fact. To explain this : that the three angles of a triangle are 
equal to two right ones, is an abstract truth ; but that they ap- 
pear so to our mind, is only a matter of fact. And this last 
must have been admitted, if any thing was, by those ancient 
sceptics, who would not have admitted the former; but pre- 
tended to doubt. Whether there were any such thing as truth ; 
or. Whether we could certainly depend upon our faculties of 
understanding for the knowledge of it in any case. So likewise, 
that there is, in the nature of things, an original standard of 
right and wrong in actions, independent upon all will, but which 
unalterably determines the will of God, to exercise that moral 
government over the world which religion teaches, i. e. finally 
and upon the whole to reward and punish men respectively as 
they act right or wrong; this assertion contains an abstract 
truth, as well as matter of fact. But suppose, in the present 
state, every man, without exception, was rewarded and pun- 
ished, in exact proportion as he followed or transgressed that 
sense of right and wrong, which God has implanted in the 
nature of every man ; this would not be at all an abstract truth, 
but only a matter of fact. And though this fact were acknow- 
ledged by every one, yet the very same difficulties might bo 
raised, as are now, concerning the abstract questions of liberty 
and moral fitness : and we should have a proof, even the certain 
one of experience, that the government of the world was per- 
fectly moral, without taking in the consideration of those ques- 
tions ; and this proof would remain, in what way so€ v er they 


312 OBJECTIONS AGAINST THE ANALOGY, &C. [TART D 

were determined. And thus, God having given mankind a 
mora . faculty, the object of which is actions, and which natu- 
rally approves some actions as right and of good desert, and 
condemns others as wrong and of ill desert; that he will, finally 
and upon the whole, reward the former, and punish the latter, 
is not an assertion of an abstract truth, but of what is as mere 
a fact, as his doing so at present would be. This future fact I 
have not indeed proved with the force with which it might be 
proved, from the principles of liberty and moral fitness; but 
without them, have given a really conclusive practical proof of 
it, which is greatly strengthened by the general analogy of 
nature ; a proof easily cavilled at, easily shown not to be de- 
monstrative, for it is not ofiered as such; but impossible, I 
think, to be evaded or answered. And thus the obligations of 
religion are made out, exclusively of the questions concerning 
liberty and moral fitness; which have been perplexed with diffi- 
culties and abstruse reasonings, as every thing may. 

Hence therefore may be observed distinctly, what is the force 
of this treatise. It will be, to such as are convinced of religion, 
upon the proof arising out of the two last-mentioned principles, 
an additional proof and a confirmation of it : to such as do not 
admit those principles, an original proof of it,* and a confirma- 
tion of that proof Those who believe, will here find the scheme 
of Christianity cleared of objections, and the evidence of it in 
a peculiar manner strengthened : those who do not believe, will 
at least be shown the absurdity of all attempts to prove Chris- 
tianity false ; the plain undoubted credibility of it ; and, I hope, 
a good deal more. 

And thus, though some perhaps may seriously think, that 
inalogy, as here urged, has too great stress laid upon it; and 
ridicule, unanswerable ridicule, may be applied, to show the 
argument from it in a disadvantageous light ; yet there can be 
no question but that it is a real one. For religion, both natural 
bnd revealed, implying in it numerous facts; analogy, being a 
confirmation of all facts to which it can be applied, as it is the 
jnly proof of most, cannot but be admitted by every one to be 
« material thing, and truly of weight on the side of religion, 
ooth natural and revealed ; and it ought to be particularly re- 
garded by such as profess to follow nature, and to be less satisfies! 
fnA abstract reasonings. 


» PftKoa 172, &c. 


PART II.J 


CONCLUSION 


318 


CONCLUSION 

Whatever account may be given of the strange inattention 
and disregard, m some ages and countries, to a matter of such 
importance as religion, it would, before experience, be incredi- 
ble, that there should be the like disregard in those, who have 
had the moral system of the world laid before them, as it is by 
Christianity, and often inculcated upon them; because this 
moral system carries in it a good degree of evidence for its 
truth, upon its being barely proposed to our thoughts. There 
is no need of abstruse reasonings and distinctions to convince 
an unprejudiced understanding, that there is a Grod who made 
and governs the world, and will judge it in righteousness; though 
they may be necessary to answer abstruse difficulties, when once 
such are raised ; when the very meaning of those words, which 
express most intelligibly the general doctrine of religion, is pre- 
tended to be uncertain, and the clear truth of the thing itself is 
obscured by the intricacies of speculation. But to an unpreju- 
diced mind, ten thousand thousand instances of design, cannot but 
prove a Designer. And it is intuitively manifest, that creatures 
ought to live under a dutiful sense of their Maker; and that 
justice and charity must be his laws, to creatures whom he has 
made social, and placed in society. Indeed, the truth of revealed 
religion, peculiarly so called, is not self-evident, but requires 
external proof, in order to its being received. Yet inattention, 
among us, to revealed religion, will be found to imply the same 
dissolute immoral temper of mind, as inattention to natural reli- 
gion ; because, when both are laid before us, in the manner they 
are in Christian countries of liberty, our obligations to inquire 
into both, and to embrace both upon supposition of their truth, 
are obligations of the same nature. For revelation claims to be 
the voice of God ; and our obligation to attend to his voice, is 
surely moral in all cases. And as it is insisl;ed, that its evidence 
is conclusive, upon thorough consideration of it; so it offers 
itself to us with manifest obvious appearances of having some- 
thing more than human in it, and therefore in all reason requires, 
tc have its claims most seriously examined into. It is to be 
•27 


314 CONCIiUblON. [PART IL 

added, that though light and knowledge, in what manner soever 
afforded us, is equally from God ; yet a miraculous revelation 
has a peculiar tendency, from the first principles of our nature, 
to awaken mankind, and inspire them with reverence and awe ; 
and this is a peculiar obligation, to attend to what claims to be 
so with such appearances of truth. It is therefore most certain, 
that our obligations to inquire seriously into the evidence of 
Christianity, and, upon supposition of its truth, to embrace it 
are of the utmost importance, and moral in the highest and 
most proper sense. Let us then suppose, that the evidence of 
religion in general, and of Christianity, has been seriously in 
quired into, by all reasonable men among us. Yet we find man) 
professedly to reject both, upon speculative principles of infi 
delity. And all of them do not content themselves with a bare 
neglect of religion, and enjoying their imaginary freedom fron 
its restraints. Some go much beyond this. They deride God’i 
moral government over the world : they renounce his protection, 
and defy his justice : they ridicule and vilify Christianity, and 
blaspheme the Author of it; and take all occasions to manifest 
a scorn and contempt of revelation. This amounts to an active 
setting themselves against religion ; to what may be considered 
\s a positive principle of irreligion ; which they cultivate within 
themselves, and, whether they intend this effect or not, rendei 
habitual, as a good man does the contrary principle. And others, 
who are not chargeable with all this profligateness, yet are in 
avowed opposition to religion, as if discovered to be groundless. 
Now admitting, which is the supposition we go upon, that these 
persons act upon what they think principles of reason, and 
otherwise they are not to be argued with ; it is really inconceiva* 
ble, that they should imagine they clearly see the whole evidence 
of it, considered in itself, to be nothing at all ; nor do they pre- 
tend this. They are far indeed from having a just notion of 
ita evidence ; but they would not say its evidence was nothing, 
if they thought the system of it, with all its circumstances, 
were credible, like other matters of science or history. So that 
their manner of treating it must proceed, either from such kind 
of objections against all religion, as have been answered or obvi- 
ated in the former part of this treatise; or else from objections 
and difficulties, supposed more peculiar to Christianity. Thus, 
they entertain prejudices against the whole notion of a revela< 
tion and miraculous interpositions. They find things in Scrip, 
turo., whether in incidental passages or in the gene/al scheme of 


CONCLUSION. 


316 


PART II.] 

it, which appear to them unreasonable. They take for granted, 
chat if Christianity were true, the light of it must have been 
more general, and the evidence of it more satisfactory, or rather 
overbearing; that it must and would have been, in some way, 
otherwise put and left, than it is. Now this is not imagining 
they see the evidence itself to be nothing, or inconsiderable ; 
but quite another thing. It is being fortified against the evi* 
lence, in some degree acknowledged, by thinking they see th(? 
ystem of Christianity or somewhat which appears to them neces* 
arily connected with it, to be incredible or false : fortified againsJ 
that evidence, which might otherwise make great impression 
apon tliem. Or lastly, if any of these persons are, upon the 
whole, in doubt concerning the truth of Christianity ; their be- 
haviour seems owing to their taking for granted, through strange 
inattention, that such doubting is in a manner the same thing, 
as being certain against it. 

To these persons, and to this state ot opinion concerning reli- 
gion, the foregoing treatise is adapted. For all the genera] 
objections against the moral system of nature having been obvia- 
ted, it is shown that there is not any peculiar presumption at 
all against Christianity, either considered as not discoverable by 
reason, or as unlike to what is so discovered ; nor any worth 
mentioning, against it as miraculous, if any at all ; none cer- 
tainly, which can render it in the least incredible. It is shown, 
that upon supposition of a divine revelation, the analogy of 
nature renders it beforehand highly credible, I think probable 
that many things in it must appear liable to great objections^ 
and that we must be incompetent judges of it, to a great degree. 
This observation is, I think, unquestionably true, and of the 
very utmost importance : but it is urged, as I hope it will be 
understood, with great caution of not vilifying the faculty of 
reason, which is the candle of the Lord laithin us though 
it can afford no light where it does not shine; nor judge, where 
it has no principles to judge upon. The objections here spoken 
of, being first answered in the view of objections against Chris- 
tianity as a matter of fact, are in the next place considered as 
urged more immediately, against the wisdom, justice, and good- 
ness of the Christian dispensation. And it is fully made out, 
hat they admit of exactly the like answer, in every respect, to 
what the like objections against the constitution of nature admit 
of : that, as partial views give the appearance of wrong to things, 
which, upon farther consideration and knowledge of ttieir rcl.:i 


CONCLUSION. 


ai6 


[part II 


tions to other things, are found just and good; so it is perfectly 
credible; that the things objected against the wisdom and good- 
ness of the Christian dispensation, may be rendered instances 
of wisdom and goodness by their reference to other things beyond 
our view ; because Christianity is a scheme as much above oui 
comprehension, as that of nature ; and like that, a scheme in 
which means are made use of to accomplish ends, and which, 
h3 is most credible, may be carried on by general laws. And 
It ought to be attended to, that this is not an answer taken 
merely or chiefly from our ignorance; but from somewhat posi- 
tive, which our observation shows us. For to like objections, 
the like answer is experienced to be just, in numberless parallel 
eases. The objections against the Christian dispensation, and 
the method by which it is carried on, having been thus obviated 
in general and together; the chief of them are considered dis 
tinctly, and the particular things objected to are shown credible, 
by their perfect analogy, each apart, to the constitution of na- 
ture. Thus, if man be fallen from his primitive state, and to be 
restored, and infinite wisdom and power engages in accomplishing 
our recovery ; it were to have been expected, it is said, that this 
should have been effected at once, and not by such a long series 
of means, and such a various economy cf persons and things ; 
one dispensation preparatory to another, this to a farther one, 
and so on through an indefinite number of ages, before the end 
of the scheme proposed can be completely accomplished ; a 
scheme conducted by infinite wisdom, and executed by almighty 
power. But now, on the contrary, our finding that every thing 
in the constitution and course of nature is thus carried on, shows 
such expectations concerning revelation to be highly unreasona- 
ble ; and is a satisfactory answer to them, when urged as objec- 
tions against the credibility, that the great scheme of Providence 
in the redemption of the world may be of this kind, and to be 
accomplished in this manner. As to the particular method of 
our redemption, the appointment of a Mediator between God 
and man ; this has been shown to be most obviously analogous 
(o the general conduct of nature, i. e. the God of Nature, in 
appointing others to be the instruments of his mercy, as we 
experience in the daily course of Providence. The condition 
of this ^world, which the doctrine of our redemption by Christ 
presupposes, so much falls in with natural appearances, that 
heatlien moralists inferred it from those appearances ; inferred, 
that human nature was fallen from its original rectitude, and id 


PART II. J 


CONCLUSION. 


317 


eonscquence of this, degraded from its primitive happiness. Or, 
however this opinion came into the world, these appearances 
must have kept up the tradition and confirmed the belief of it 
And as it was the general opinion, under the light of nature, 
that repentance and reformation, alone and by itself, was not 
sufficient to do away sin, and procure a full remission of tbe 
penalties annexed to it ; and as the reason of the thing docs net 
t all lead to any such conclusion ; so every day’s experience 
hows us, that reformation is not, in any sort, sufficient to pre* 
vent the present disadvantages and miseries, which, in the natu- 
ral course of things, Grod has annexed to folly and extravagance. 
Yet there may be ground to think, that the punishments, which, 
by the general laws of divine government, are annexed* to vice, 
may be prevented ; that provision may have been even originall3i 
made, that they should be prevented by some means or other, 
though they could not by reformation alone. For we have daily 
instances of such mercy ^ in the general conduct of nature \ com- 
passion provided tor misery,* medicines for diseases, friends 
against enemies. There is provision made, in the original consti- 
tution of the world, that much of the natural bad consequences 
of our follies, which persons themselves alone cannot prevent, 
may be prevented by the assistance of others ; assistance, which 
nature enables, and disposes, and appoints them to afford. By 
a method of goodness analogous to this, when the world lay in 
wickedness, and consequently, in ruin, God so loved the world, 
that he gave his only begotten Son,” to save it ; and, he being 
made perfect by suffering, became the author of eternal salva- 
tion to all them dial obey him”'\ Indeed, neither reason nor 
analogy would lead us to think, in particular, that the interpo- 
sition of Christ, in the manner in which he did interpose, would 
be of that efficacy for recovery of the world, which the Scrip- 
ture teaches us it was : but neither would reason nor analogy 
lead us to think, that other particular means would be of the 
efficacy, which experience shows they are, in numberless in- 
stances. And therefore, as the case before us does not admit 
of experience; so that neither reason nor analogy can show, 
how, or in whs.t particular way, the interposition of Chiist, as 
revealed in Scripture, is of that efficacy which it is there repre- 
sented to be ; this is no kind or degree of presumption agains* 
its being really of that efficacy. Farther : the objections againsi 

* Sermon 6th, the Rolls. f John iii. 16. Heb. v. 9. 

27 * 


318 


CONCLUSION. 


[PART n 

Christic'ii ity, from the light of it not being univei’sal, nor ita 
evidence so strong as might possibly be given us, have been 
answered by the general analogy of nature. That God has 
made such variety of creatures, is indeed an answer to the for- 
mer; but that he dispenses his gifts in such variety, both of 
degrees and kinds, amongst creatures of the same species, ahd 
even to the same individuals at different times, is a more obvious 
snd full answer to it. And it is so far from being the method 
of IVovidence, in other coses, to afford us such overbearing 
evidence, as some require in proof of Christianity, that, on the 
contrary, the evidence upon w’hich we are naturally appointed 
to act, in common matters, throughout a very great part of life, 
is doubtful in a high degree. And admitting the fact, that God 
has afforded to some, no more than doubtful evidence of religion, 
the same account may be given of it, as of difficulties and 
temptations with regard to practice. But as it is not impossi- 
ble,* surely, that this alleged doubtfulness may be men’s own 
^ault, it deserves their most serious consideration, whether it be 
not so. However, it is certain, that doubting implies a degree 
of evidence for that of which we doubt ; and that this degree 
of evidence as really lays us under obligations, as demonstrative 
evidence. 

The whole then of religion is throughout credible; nor is 
there, I think, any thing relating to the revealed dispensation 
of things more different from the experienced constitution and 
course of nature, than some parts of the constitution of nature 
are from other parts of it. And if so, the only question which 
remains, is. What positive evidence can be alleged for the truth 
of Christianity ? This too in general has been considered, and 
the objections against it estimated. Deduct, therefore, what is 
to be deducted from that evidence, upon account of any weight 
which may be thought to remain in these objections, after what 
'.he analogy of nature has suggested in answer to them ; and 
then consider, what are the practical consequences from all 
this, upon the most sceptical principles one can argue upon, 
(for I am writing to persons who entertain these principles ;) 
and upon such consideration it will be obvious, that immorality, 
as little excuse as it admits of in itself, is greatly aggravated, in 
pers.')ns who have been made acquainted with Christianity, whe- 
ther they believe it or not; because the mora’ system of nature, 


* Page 266. 


PART II.] CONCLUSION. *UJj 

or natural religion, which Christianity lays before us, approves 
itself, almost intuitively, to a reasonable mind, upon seeing it 
proposed. In the next place, with regard to Christianity, it 
will be observed, that there is a middle, between a full satisfac- 
tion of the truth of it, and a satisfaction of the contrary. Thf 
middle state of mind between these two, consists in a serious 
apprehension, that it may be true, joined with doubt, whether 
it be so. And this, upon the best judgment I am able to make, 
is as far towards speculative infidelity, as any sceptic can at all 
be supposed to go, who has had true Christianity, with the 
proper evidence of it, laid before him, and has in any tolerable 
measure considered them. For I would not be mistaken to 
comprehend all who have ever heard of it; because it seems 
evident, that in many countries called Christian, neither Chris- 
tianity, nor its evidence, are fairly laid before men. And in 
places where both are, there appear to be some who have very 
little attended to either, and who reject Christianity with a 
scorn proportionate to their inattention; and yet are by no 
means without understanding in other matters. Now it has 
been shown, that a serious apprehension that Christianity may 
be true, lays persons under the strictest obligations of a serious 
regard to it, throughout the whole of their life ; a regard, not 
the same exactly, but in many respects nearly the same, with 
what a full conviction of its truth would lay them under. 
Lastly, it will appear, that blasphemy and profaneness, I mean 
with regard to Christianity, are absolutely without excuse. For 
there is no temptation to it, but from the wantonness of vanity 
or mirth ; and these, considering the infinite importance of the 
subject, arc no such temptations as to afibrd any excuse for it. 
[f this be a just account of things, and yet men can go on to 
vilify or disregard Christianity, which is to talk and act as if 
they had a demonstration of its falsehood; there is no reftson to 
think they would alter their behaviour to any purpose, though 
there were a demonstration of its truth 


i 


TWO BEIEF DISSEETATIONS. 


I. OF PEESONAL IDENTITY. 

U. OF THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. 


( 321 ) 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

In the first copy of these Papers, I had inserted the two 
following Dissertations into the chapters, Of a Future Life, 
and Of the Moral Government of God ; with which they are 
closely connected. But as they do not directly fall under the 
title of the foregoing Treatise, and would have kept the subject 
of it too long out of sight; it seemed more proper to place 
them by themselves. 


( 322 ) 


DiSS. I.] 


PERSONAL IDENTITY. 


323 


DISSERTATION I. 

OF PERSONAL IDENTITY. 

Whether we are to live in a future state, as it is the most 
important question which can possibly be asked, so it is the 
most intelligible one which can be expressed in language. Yet 
strange perplexities have been raised about the meaning of that 
identity, or sameness of person, which is implied in the notion 
of our living now and hereafter, or in any two successive mo- 
ments. And the solution of these difficulties hath been stranger 
than the difficulties themselves. For, personal identity has 
been explained so by some, as to render the inquiry concerning 
a future life of no consequence at all to us, the persons who are 
making it. And though few men can be misled by such sub- 
tleties, yet it may be proper a little to consider them. 

Now, when it is asked wherein personal identity consists, the 
answer should be the same as if it were asked, wherein consists 
similitude or equality; that all attempts to define, would but 
perplex it. Yet there is no difficulty at all in ascertaining the 
idea. For as, upon two triangles being compared or viewed to- 
gether, there arises to the mind the idea of similitude ; or upon 
twice two and four, the idea of equality; so likewise, upon 
comparing the consciousness of one's self, or one’s own exist- 
ence in any two moments, there as immediately arises to the 
mind the idea of personal identity. And as the two former 
comparisons not only give us the ideas of similitude and 
equality, but also show us, that two triangles are alike, and 
twice two and four are equal ; so the latter comparison not only 
gives us the idea of personal identity, but also shows us the 
identity of ourselves in those two moments ; the present sup- 
pose, and that immediately past; or the present, and that a 
month, a year, or twenty years past. Or, in other words, by 
reflecting upon that, which is myself now, and that which was 
myself twenty years ago, I discern they are not two, but one 
ftnd the same self. 

But though consciousness of what is past does thus ascertain 


3^4 


PERSONAL IDENTITY 


[DISS. I 

OUT personal identity to ourselves^, yet, to say that it makes per- 
sonal identity, or is necessary to our being the same persons, is 
to say, that a person has not existed a single moment, nor done 
one action, but what he can remember ; indeed none but what 
he reflects upon. And one should really think it self-evident, 
that consciousness of personal identity presupposes, and there- 
fore cannot constitute personal identity, any more than know- 
ledge, in any other case, can constitute truth, which it pre- 
upposes. 

This wonderful mistake may possibly have arisen from hence, 
that to be endued with consciousness, is inseparable from the 
idea of a person, or intelligent being. For this might be ex- 
pressed inaccurately thus — that consciousness makes personality ; 
and from hence it might be concluded to make personal idea 
tity. But though present consciousness of what we at present 
do and feel, is necessary to our being the persons we now are ; 
yet present consciousness of past actions, or feelings, is not 
necessary to our being the same persons who performed those 
actions, or had those feelings. 

The inquiry, what makes vegetables the same in the common 
acceptation of the word, does not appear to have any relation to 
this of personal identity; because the word same, when applied 
to them and to person, is not only applied to different subjects, 
but it is also used in different senses. For when a man swears 
to the same tree, as having stood fifty years in the same place, 
he means only the same as to all the purposes of property and 
uses of common life, and not that the tree has been all that 
time the same in the strict philosophical sense of the word. For 
he does not know, whether any one particle of the present tree 
be the same with any one particle of the tree which stood in the 
same place fifty years ago. And if they have not one common 
particle of matter, they cannot be the same tree in the proper 
philosophic sense of the word same ; it being evidently a con- 
tradiction in terms, to say they are, when no part of their sub- 
stance, and no one of their properties, is the same : no part of 
their substance by the supposition ; no one of their properties, 
because it is allowed, that the same property cannoc be trans- 
ferred from one substance to another. And therefore, when we 
say the identity, or sameness, of a plant consists in a continua- 
tion of the same life, communicated under the same organiza- 
tion, to a number of particles of matter, whether the same oi 
not, the word iame, when applied to life and to organization, 


DISS. 1.] PERSONAL IDENTITY. ^25 

cannot possibly be understood to signify, wiat it signifies in this 
very sentence, when applied to matter. In a loose and popular 
sense then, the life, and the organization, and the plant, are 
justly said to be the same, notwithstanding the perpetual change 
of the parts. But in a strict and philosophical manner of 
speech, no man, no being, no mode of being, no any thing, can 
bo the same with that, with which it hath indeed nothing the 
same. Now, sameness is used in this latter sense when applied 
to persons. The identity of these, therefore, cannot subsisf 
with diversity of substance. 

The thing here considered, and demonstratively, as I think, 
determined, is proposed by Mr. Locke in these words. Whether 
itj i. e. the same self or person, be the same identical substance f 
And he has suggested what is a much better answer to the 
question, than that which he gives it in form. For he defines 
person, a thinking, intelligent beings ^c. and personal identity, 
the sameness of a rational being.^ The question then is, whe* 
ther the same rational being is the same substance ; which needs 
no answer, because being and substance, in this place, stand for 
the same idea. The ground of the doubt, whether the same 
person be the same substance, is said to be this : that the con 
sciousness of our own existence, in youth and in old age, or in 
any two joint successive moments, is not the same individual 
action, that is, not the same consciousness, but different sue 
cessive consciousnesses. Now, it is strange that this should 
have occasioned such perplexities. For it is surely conceivable, 
that a person may have a capacity of knowing some object or 
other to be the same now, which it was when he contemplated 
it formerly; yet in this case, where, by the supposition, the 
object is perceived to be the same, the perception of it in any 
two moments, cannot be one and the same perception. And 
thus, though the successive consciousnesses which we have of 
our own existence are not the same, yet are they conscious- 
nesses of one and the same thing or object; of the same person, 
self, or living agent. The person, of whose existence the con- 
sciousness is felt now, and was felt an hour or a year ago, is 
discerned to be, not two persons, but one and the same person ; 
ind therefore is one and the same. 

Mr. Locke/s observations upon this subject appear hasty ; and 
ho seems to profess himself dissatisfied with suppositions which 


• Locke’s Works, vol. i. p. 14G. 

28 


f Locke, pp. 146, 147 


32(5 


PERSONAL IDENTITY. 


[DISS. i 

he has made relating to it.* But some of those hasty observa- 
tions have been carried to a strange length by others ; whose 
notion, when traced and examined to the bottom, amounts, 1 
think, to this That personality is not a permanent, but a 
transient thing; that it lives and dies, begins and ends, con- 
tinually : that no one can any more remain one and the same 
person two moments together, than two successive moments can 
be one and the same moment : that our substance is indeed con- 
tinually changing; but whether this be so or not, is, it seems, 
nothing to the purpose ; since it is not substance, but conscious- 
ness, alone, which constitutes personality; which consciousness 
being successive, cannot be the same in any two moments, nor 
consequently the personality constituted by it.’^ And from 
hence it must follow, that it is a fallacy upon ourselves, to charge 
our present selves with any thing we did, or to imagine our 
present selves interested in any thing which befell us yesterday, 
or that our present self will be interested in what will befall us 
to-morrow: since our present self is not, in reality, the same 
with the self of yesterday, but another like self or person coming 
in its room, and mistaken for it ; to which another self will suc- 
ceed to-morrow. This, I say, must follow : for if the self or 
person of to-day, and that of to-morrow, are not the same, but 
only like persons, the person of to-day is really no more inte- 
rested in what will befall the person of to-morrow, than in what 
will befall any other person. It may bo thought, perhaps, that 
this is not a just representation of the opinion we are speaking 
of; because those who maintain it allow, that a person is the 
same as far back as his remembrance reaches. And indeed, 
they do use the words identity and same person. Nor will 
language permit these words to be laid aside : since, if they 
were, there must be, I know not what ridiculous periphrasis 
substituted in the room of them. But they cannot, consistently 
with themselves, mean, that the person is really the same. For 
it is self-evident, that the personality cannot be really the same, 
if, as they expressly assert, that in which it consists is not the 
same. And as, consistently with themselves, they cannot, so, 
I think, it appears they do not mean, that the person is really 
the same, but only that he is so in a fictitious sense : in such a 


* Locke, p. 152. 

f See an answer to Dr. Clarke’s third defence of his letter to Mr 
Dodwcll, 21 edit. pp. 44, 66, &c. 


OISS. l.J 


PERSONAL IDENTITY. 


327 


sense only as they assert ; for this they do assert, that any num- 
ber of persons whatever may be the same person. The bare 
unfolding this notion, and laying it thus naked and open, seems 
the best confutation of it. However, since great stress is said 
to be put upon it, I add the following things : 

Firsty This notion is absolutely contradictory to that certain 
conviction, which necessarily and every moment rises within us, 
when we turn our thoughts upon ourselves : when we reflect 
upon what is past, and look forward upon what is to come. All 
imagination of a daily change of that living agent which each 
man calls himself, for another, or of any such change through- 
out our whole present life, is entirely borne down by our natural 
sense of things. Nor is it possible for a person in his wits to 
alter his conduct, with regard to his health or aflairs, from a 
suspicion, that though he should live to-morrow, he should not, 
however, be the same person he is to-day. And yet, if it be 
reasonable to act, with respect to a future life, upon this notion, 
that personality is transient; it is reasonable to act upon it, 
with respect to the present. Here then is a notion equally 
applicable to religion and to our temporal concerns ; and every 
me sees and feels the inexpressible absurdity of it in the latter 
ase. If, therefore, any can take up with it in the former, this 
cannot proceed from the reason of the thing, but must be owing 
to an inward unfairness, and secret corruption of heart. 

Secondly, It is not an idea, or abstract notion, or quality, 
but a being only, which is capable of life and action, of happi- 
ness and misery. Now all beings confessedly continue the same," 
during the whole time of their existence. Consider then a living 
being now existing, and which has existed for any time alive : 
this living being must have done and suffered and enjoyed, what 
it has done and suffered and enjoyed formerly (this living being, 
I say, and not another) as really as it does and suffers and en- 
joys, what it does, and suffers, and enjoys, this instant. ^ All 
these successive actions, enjoyments, and sufferings, are actions, 
enjoyments, and sufferings, of the same living being. And they 
are so, prior to all consideration of its remembering or forget- 
ting ; since remembering or forgetting can make no alteration 
in the truth of past matter of fact. And suppose this being 
endued with limited powers of knowledge and memory, there 
is no more difficulty in conceiving it to have a power of knowing 
itself to be the same living being which it was some time ago, 
of remembering some of its actions, sufferings, and enjoyments, 


PERSONAL IDENTITY. 




[DISS I 


and forgetting others, than in conceiving it to know, or remera 
ber, or forget, any thing else. 

Thirdly, Every person is conscious that he is now the same 
person or self he was, as far back as his remembrance reaches ,* 
since, when any one reflects upon a past action of his own, he 
is just as certain of the person who did that action, namely, 
himself, the person who now reflects upon it, as he is certain 
that the action was at all done. Nay, very often a personas 
assurance of an action having been done, of which he is abso- 
lutely assured, arises wholly from the consciousness that he 
himself did it. And this he, person, or self, must either be a 
substance or the property of some substance. If he, if person, 
be a substance ; then consciousness that he is the same person, 
is consciousness that he is the same substance. If the person, 
or he, be the property of a substance ; still consciousness that 
he is the same property, is as certain a proof that his substance 
remains the same, as consciousness that he remains the sams 
substance would be ; since the same property cannot be trans- 
ferred from one substance to another. 

But though we are thus certain that we are the same agents, 
living beings, or substances, now, which we were as far back as 
our remembrance reaches ; yet it is asked, whether we may not 
possibly be deceived in it ? And this question may be asked 
at the end of any demonstration whatever; because it is a ques- 
tion concerning the truth of perception by memory. And he 
who can doubt, whether perception by memory can in this case be 
depended upon, may doubt also, whether perception by deduction 
and reasoning, which also include memory, or, indeed, whether 
intuitive perception can. Here then, we can go no farther. For 
it is ridiculous to attempt to prove the truth of those perceptions, 
whose truth we can no otherwise prove, than by other percep- 
tions of exactly the same kind with them, and which there is 
just the same ground to suspect ; or to attempt to prove the 
truth of our faculties, which can no otherwise be proved, than 
by the use or means of those very suspected faculties them- 
nelves. 


mgs. n.l 


or Tilli NATURE OF VIRTUE 


329 


DISSERTATION 11. 

or THE NATLRE OF VIRTUE 

That which renders beings capable of moral government, is 
fibeir having a moral nature, and moral faculties of perception 
Hud of action. Brute creatures are impressed and actuated by 
various instincts and propensions : so also are we. But addi- 
tional to this, we have a capacity of reflecting upon actions and 
characters, and making them an object to our thought : and on 
doing this, we naturally and unavoidably approve some actions, 
under the peculiar view of their being virtuous, and of good- 
desert; and disapprove others, as vicious and of ill-desert. That 
we have this moral approving and disapproving* faculty is cer- 
tain from our experiencing it in ourselves, and recognizing it in 
each other. It appears from our exercising it unavoidably, in 
the approbation and disapprobation even of feigned characters : 
from the words, right and wrong, odious and amiable, base and 
worthy, with many others of like signification in all languages, 
applied to actions and characters ; from the many written sys- 
tems of morals which suppose it ; since it cannot be imagined, 
that all these authors, throughout all these treatises, had abso- 
lutely no meaning at all to their words, or a meaning merely 
chimerical : from our natural sense of gratitude, which implies 
a distinction between merely being the instrument of good and 


* This way of speaking is taken from Epictetus,* and is made use 
of, as seeming the most full and the least liable to cavil. And the 
moral faculty may be understood to have these two epithets, SoKiixav^ 
TiK?i and uTioioKiiiaiTTiKTi, upoo a double account ; because, upon a survey 
of actions, whether before or after they are done, it determines them 
to be good or evil ; and also because it determines itself to be the 
guide of action and of life, in contradistinction from all other facul- 
ties, or natural principles of action : in the very same manner, as 
speculative reason directly and naturally judges of speculative truth 
and falsehood ; and, at the same time, is attended with a conscious- 
ness upon reflection, that the natural right to judge of them belorgi 
io it 

* Arr. Epict. lib. i. cap. 1. 

28 ♦ 


330 OF THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. [DiftS. 11 

intending it ; from the like distinction, every one makes between 
injury and msre harm, which, Hobbes says, is peculiar to man- 
kind; and between injury and just punishment, a distinction 
plainly natural, prior to the consideration of human laws. It 
is manifest, great part of common language, and of common 
behaviour over the world, is formed upon supposition of such a 
moral faculty ; whether called conscience, moral reason, moral 
lense, or divine reason ; whether considered as a sentiment of 
he understanding, or as a perception of the heart, or, which 
acems the truth, as including both.* Nor is it at all doubtful 
in general, what course of action this faculty, or practical dis- 
cerning power within us, approves, and what it disapproves. For, 
as much as it has been disputed wherein virtue consists, or 
whatever ground for doubt there may be about particulars, yet, 
in general, there is in reality an universally acknowledged stand- 
ard of it. It is that which all ages and all countries have made 
profession of in public ; it is that which every man you meet 
puts on the show of; it is that which the primary and funda- 
mental laws of all civil constitutions, over the face of the earth, 
make it their business and endeavour to enforce the practice of 
upon mankind; namely, justice, veracity, and regard to common 
good. It being manifest, then, in general, that we have such 
a faculty, or discernment as this, it may be of use to remark 
some things, more distinctly, concerning it. 

First, It ought to be observed, that the object of this faculty 
is .actions,^ comprehending under that name, active or practical 
principles; those principles from which men would act, if occa- 
sions and circumstances gave them power; and which, when 
Uxed and habitual in any person, we call, his character It 
does not appear, that brutes have the least reflex sense of 
ictions, as distinguished from events ; or that will and design, 
which constitute the very nature of actions as such, are at all 

* [Butler’s meaning appears to be that, if it be referred to the 
understanding, it differs from other acts of the understanding, in par- 
taking of the nature of feeling; and that, if it be referred to the 
heart or feelings, it must be allowed to partake of the nature of per- 
ception. Compare the language of Adam Smith, in describing the 
aystem of Hutcheson. “ This sentiment being of a peculiar nature, 
tistinct from every other, and the effect of a particular power of per- 
xption^ they give it a particular name, and call it a moral sense.”— 
Fart VI. chap. hi. p. 35G. — F.] 

j- ^ iptrij Kai KaKia—lv iTEtaei, aWa htpy^ia* jM. Anton, lib. 9, IG — 
Virtutis laus omnia in actione consistit. Cic. Offic. lib. 1, c. G. 


DISS. n.] OP THE NATURE OP VIRTUE. oHl 

an olijoct to their perception. But to ours they are : and they 
are th3 object, and the only one, of the approving and disap- 
proving faculty. Acting, conduct, behaviour, abstracted from 
all regard to what is, in fact and event, the consequence of it, 
is itself the natural object of the moral discernment, as specula- 
tive truth and falsehood is of speculative reason. Intention of 
such and such consequences, indeed, is always included ; for it 
is part of the action itself : but though the intended good or bad 
consequences do not follow, we have exactly the same sense of 
the action, as if they did. In like manner, we think well or ill 
of characters, abstracted from all consideration of the good or 
the evil which persons of such characters have it actually in 
their power to do. We never, in the moral way, applaud or 
blame either ourselves or others, for what we enjoy or what we 
suffer, or, for having impressions made upon us which we con • 
sider as altogether out of our power ; but only for what we do 
or would have done, had it been in our power ; or for what we 
leave undone which we might have done, or would have left un- 
done though we could have done it. 

Secondly, Our sense or discernment of actions, as morally 
good or evil, implies in it a sense or discernment of them as of 
good or ill desert. It may be difficult to explain this percep- 
tion, so as to answer all the questions which might be asked 
concerning it ; but every one speaks of such actions as deserving 
punishment ; and it is not, I suppose, pretended, that they have 
absolutely no meaning at all to the expression. Now the mean- 
ing plainly is not, that we conceive it for the good of society, 
that the doer of such actions should be made to suffer. For if 
unhappily it were resolved, that a man who, by some innocent 
action, was infected with the plague, should be left to perish, 
lest, by other people’s coming near him, the infection should 
spread ; no one would say, he deserved this treatment. Inno- 
cence and ill desert are inconsistent ideas. Ill desert always 
supposes guilt ; and if one be not part of the other, yet they are 
evidently and naturally connected in our mind. The sight of a 
man in misery raises our compassion towards him ; and, if this 
misery be inflicted on him by another, our indignation against 
the author of it. But when we are informed, that the sufferer 
is a villain, and is punished only for his treachery or cruelty, 
our compassion exceedingly lessens, and, in many instances, oui 
indignation wholly subsides. Now, what produces this effect, is 
the conception cf that in the sufferer^ which we call ill desert 


332 OF THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. [DISS. 11. 

Upon considering then, or viewing together, our notion of vi()« 
and that of misery, there results a third, that of ill desert. And 
thus there is in human creatures an association of the two ideas, 
natural and moral evil, wickedness and punishment. If this 
association were merely artificial or accidental, it were nothi ag ; 
but being most unquestionably natural, it greatly concerns us 
to attend to it, instead of endeavouring to explain it away. 

It may be observed farther, concerning our perception of good 
tnd of ill desert, that the former is very weak with respect to 
3s)mmon instances of virtue. One reason of which may be, that 
it does not appear to a spectator, how fiir such instances of virtue 
proceed from a virtuous principle, or in what degree this prin- 
ciple is prevalent ; since a very weak regard to virtue may be 
sufficient to make men act well in many common instances. 
And on the other hand, our perception of ill desert in vicious 
actions lessens, in proportion to the temptations men are thought 
to have had to such vices. For, vice in human creatures con- 
sisting chiefly in the absence or want of the virtuous principle, 
though a man be overcome, suppose, by tortures, it does not 
from thence appear, to what degree the virtuous principle was 
wanting. All that appears is, that he had it not in such a 
degree, as to prevail over the temptation ; but possibly he had 
it in a degree, which would have rendered him proof against 
common temptations. 

Thirdly, Our perception of vice and ill desert arises from, 
and is the result of, a comparison of actions with the nature and 
capacities of the agent. For the mere neglect of doing what we 
ought to do, would, in many cases, be determined by all men to 
bo in the highest degree vicious. And this determination must 
arise from such comparison, and be the result of it; because 
such neglect would not be vicious in creatures of other natures 
and capacities, as brutes. And it is the same also with respect 
to positive vices, or such as consist in doing what we ought not. 
For, every one has a different sense of harm done by an idiot, 
madman, or child, and by one of mature and common under- 
standing; though the action of both, including the intention, 
which is part of the action, be the same ; as it may be, since 
idiots and madmen, as well as children, are capable, not only of 
doing mischief, but also of intending it. Now, this difference 
must arise from somewhat discerned in the nature or capacities 
of one, which renders the action vicious ; and the want of which 
ji the other, renders the same action innocent- or leas vicious* 


UISS. II. ■} 


OF THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. 


33-3 


and this plainly supposes a coraparison, whether reflected upon 
or not, between the action and capacities of the agent, previous 
to our determining an action to be vicious. And hence arises a 
proper application of the epithets, incongruous^ unsuitable^ dis- 
proportionate, unfit, to actions which our moral faculty deter 
mines to be vicious. 

Fourthly, It deserves to be considered, whether men are 
more at liberty, in point of morals, to make themselves miserable 
without reason, than to make other people so or dissolutely to 
neglect their own greater good, for the sake of a present lesser 
gratification, than they are to neglect the good of others, whom 
nature has committed to their care. It should seem, that a due 
concern about our own interest or happiness, and a reasonable 
endeavour to secure and promote it, which is, I think, very much 
the meaning of the word prudence in our language ; it should 
seem, that this is virtue, and the contrary behaviour faulty and 
blameable : since, in the calmest way of reflection, we approve 
or the first, and condemn the other conduct, both in ourselves 
and others. This approbation and disapprobation are altogether 
difierent from mere desire of our own, or of their happiness, and 
from sorrow upon missing it. For the object or occasion of this 
last kind of perception, is satisfaction or uneasiness; whereas 
the object of the first is active behaviour. In one case, what 
our thoughts fix upon, is our condition ; in the ether, our con- 
duct. It is true indeed, that nature has not given us so sensible 
a disapprobation of imprudence and folly either in ourselves or 
others, as of falsehood, injustice, and cruelty; I suppose, be 
cause that constant habitual sense of private interest and good, 
which we always carry about with us, renders such sensible dis- 
ipprobation less necessary, less wanting, to keep us from impru- 
iently neglecting our own happiness, and foolishly injuring our- 
selves, than it is necessary and wanting to keep us from injuring 
others, to whose good we cannot have so strong and constant a 
regard; and also because imprudence and folly, appearing to 
bring its own punishment more immediately and constantly than 
injurious behaviour, it less needs the additional punishment, 
which would be inflicted upon it by others, had they the same 
sensible indignation against it, as against injustice and fraud 
%nd cruelty. Besides, unhappiness being in itself the natural 
»bj&.3t of compassion, the unhappiness which people bring upon 
ihemselves, though it be wilfully, excites in us some pity fo; 
them ; and this, of course, lessens our displeasure against them 
28 * 


334 OP THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. [DIHS IL 

But still it is matter of experience, that we are formed so, as to 
reflect very severely upon the greater instances of imprudent 
neglects and foolish rashness, both in ourselves and others. In 
instances of this kind, men often say of themselves with re- 
morse, and of others with some indignation, that they deserved 
to sutler such calamities, because they brought them upon them- 
selves, and would not take warning. Particularly, when per- 
sons come to poverty and distress by a long course of extrava 
gance, and after frequent admonitions, though without falsehood 
or injustice ; we plainly do not regard such people as alike ob 
jBcts of compassion, with those who are brought into the same 
v)ndition by unavoidable accidents. From these things it ap- 
pears, that prudence is a species of virtue, and folly of vice : 
meaning by somewhat quite different from mere incapa- 
city; a thoughtless want of that regard and attention to our 
own happiness, which we had capacity for. And this the word 
properly includes, and as it seems, in its usual acceptation ; for 
we scarce apply it to brute creatures. 

However, if any person be disposed to dispute the matter, I 
shall very willingly give him up the words virtue and vice, as 
not applicable to prudence and folly; but must beg leave to 
insist, that the faculty within us, which is the judge of actions, 
approves of prudent actions, and disapproves imprudent ones ; 
I say, prudent and imprudent aefions as such, and considered 
distinctly from the happiness or misery which they occasion. 
And by the way, this observation may help to determine, what 
justness there is in that objection against religion, that it teaches 
us to be interested and selfish. 

Fifthly, Without inquiring how far, and in what sense, vir- 
tue is resolvable into benevolence, and vice into the want of it ; 
it may be proper to observe, that benevolence, and the want of 
it, singly considered, are in no sort the whole of virtue and vice. 
For if this were the case, in the review of one’s own character, 
or that of others, our moral understanding, and moral sense 
would be indifierent to every thing, but the degrees in which 
benevolence prevailed, and the degrees in which it was wanting. 
That is, we should neither approve of benevolence to some per- 
sons rather than to others, nor disapprove injustice and falsehood 
upon any other account, than merely as an overbalance of hap- 
piness was foreseen likely to be produced by the first, and of 
misery by the second. But now, on the contrary, suppose twfl 
men competitors for any thing whatever, which would bo of 


DISS. Il.j 


OJj' THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. 


835 


equal advantage to each of them • though nothing indeed would 
be more impertinent, than for a stranger to busy liimself to get 
one of them preferred to the other ; yet such endeavour would 
be virtue, in behalf of a friend or benefactor, abstracted from 
all consideration of distant consequences : as that examples of 
gratitude and the cultivation of friendship, would be of general 
good to the world. Again, suppose one man should, by fraud 
or violence, take from another the fruit of his labour, with intend 
to give it to a third, who, he thought, would have as much 
pleasure from it. as would balance the pleasure which the first 
^sessor would have had in the enjoyment, and his vexation in 
the loss of it; suppose also that no bad consequences would 
follow ; yet such an action would surely be vicious. Nay far- 
ther, were treachery, violence, and injustice, no otherwise vicious, 
than as foreseen likely to produce an overbalance of misery to 
society; then, if in any case a man could procure to himself as 
great advantage by an act of injustice, as the whole foreseen 
inconvenience, likely to be brought upon others by it, would 
amount to, such a piece of injustice would not be faulty or 
vicious at all, because it would be no more than, in any other 
case, for a man to prefer his own satisfaction to another’s in 
equal degrees. The fact then appears to be, that we are con- 
stituted so, as to condemn falsehood, unprovoked violence, injus- 
tice, and to approve of benevolence to some preferably to others, 
abstracted from all consideration, which conduct is likeliest to 
produce an overbalance of happiness or misery. And there- 
fore, were the Author of Nature to propose nothing to himself 
as an end but the production of happiness, were his monil char- 
acter merely that of benevolence; yet ours is not so. Upon 
that supposition, indeed, the only reason of his giving us t\i€ 
above-mentioned approbation of benevolence to some persons 
rather than others, and disapprobation of falsehood, unprovoked 
violence, and injustice, must be, that he foresaw this constitution 
of our nature would produce more happiness, than forming ua 
with a temper of mere general benevolence. But still, since 
this is our constitution, falsehood, violence, injustice, must be 
vice in us, and benevolence, to some preferably to others, virtue, 
abstracted from all consideration of the overbalance of evil or 
good, which they may appear likely to produce. 

Now if human creatures are endowed with such a moral na- 
j^ure as we have been explaining, or with a moral faculty, the 
natural object of which is actions ; moral governmeut must con- 


836 


OP TJIE NATURE OP VIRTUE. 


[OISS. II 

gist in. rendering them happy and unhappy, in rewarding and 
punishing them, as they follow, neglect, or depart from, the 
moral rule of action interwoven in their nature, or suggested 
and enforced by this moral faculty in rewarding and punish- 
ing them upon account of their so d</ing. 

I am not sensible that I have, in this fifth observation, con- 
tradicted what any author designed to assert. But some of 
great and distinguished merit have, I think, expressed them- 
lelves in a manner which may occasion some danger to careless 
readers, of imagining the whole of virtue to consist in singly 
riming, according to the best of their judgment, at promoting 
the happiness of mankind in the present state ; and the whole 
of vice, in doing what they foresee, or might foresee, is likely 
to produce an overbalance ot unhappiness in it; than which 
mistakes, none can be conceived more terrible. For it is certain, 
that some of the most shocking instances of injustice, adultery, 
murder, perjury, and even of persecution, may, in many sup- 
posable cases, not have the appearance of being likely to produce 
an overbalance of misery in the present state ; perhaps some- 
timea may have the contrary appearance. For this reflection 
might easily be carried on; but I forbear. — The happiness of 
the world is the concern of him who is the Lord and the Pro- 
prietor of it; nor do we know what we are about, when we 
endeavour to promote the good of mankind in any ways, but 
those which he has directed ; i. e. indeed, in all ways not con- 
trary to veracity and justice. I speak thus upon supposition of 
persons really endeavouring, in some sort, to do good without 
regard to these. But the truth seems to be, that such supposed 
endeavours proceed, almost always, from ambition, the spirit of 
party, or some indirect principle, concealed, perhaps, in great 
measure from persons themselves. And though it is our busi- 
ness and our duty to endeavour, within the bounds of veracity 
and justice, lo contribute to the ease, convenience, and even 
cheerfulness and diversion of our fellow-creatures; yet from our 
sh^rt views, it is greatly uncertain whether this endeavour will, 
m particular instances, produce an overbalance of happiness 
upon the whole ; since so many and distant things must come 
into the account. And that which makes it our duty, is, that 
there is some appearance that it will, and no positive appearance 
to balance this, on the contrary side; and also, thu 


Part i. chap. G, p. 176. 


1*1 ss. n.] 


OF THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. 


337 


Buch benevolent endeavour is a cultivation of that mo^t excellent 
of all virtuous principles, tbe active principle of benox'olence. 

However, though voracity, as well as justice, is to be our rule 
of life ; it must be added, otherwise a snare will be laid in the 
way of some plain men, that the use of common forms of speech 
generally understood, cannot be falsehood, and in general that 
there can be no designed falsehood without designing to deceive. 
It must likewise be observed, that in numberless eases, a man 
nay be under the strictest obligations to what he foresees will 
deceive, without his intending it. For it is impossible not to 
foresee, that the words and actions of men in diiferent ranks 
and employments, and of different educations, will perpetually 
be mistaken by each other; and it cannot but be so, whilst they 
will judge with the utmost carelessness, as they daily do, of 
what they are not, perhaps, enough informed to be competent 
Judges of, even though they considered it with great atfcentson. 


29 




INDEX. 


tBSTBACT REASONING. 

May be, with propriety, joined with the observation of fact*, 8$, 

From the opinion of necessity, fallacious, 169, 170. 

4CTION. 

This world a theatre of, 164. 

As distinguished from the thing done, the chief object of religiofi, 
269, 270. 

ACTIONS. 

Pleasure and pain, the consequences of our, 107. 

To be distinguished from their moral quality, as virtuous or vicious, 125. 
Tho provision made, that all their bad consequences should not always 
actually follow, 242. 

Will and design constitute their nature as such, 330. 

Distinguished from events, 330. 

AFFLICTION. 

The proper discipline for resignation, 162, 163. 

ANALOGY. 

Butler’s, a work demanded by the times in which it was written, 15. 
Force of the argument in the, 16, 312. 

Topics embraced in the, 89, 90. 

The objection against, as being unsatisfactory, answered, 308, 309. 
Upon what principles the argument in, is conducted, 310, 311. 

In general, a just and conclusive moae of reasoning, 85. 

When applied to religion, superior to hypothesis and speculation, 86“89. 
Whately’s definition of, 82. Mill’s definition of, 82. 

Butler’s sense of the term, 82. 

iNiLOGY [between the course of nature and tho moral system of the 
world]. 

AiTordj no ground fer believing that death will destroy our living 
jowors, 94. 


( 389 ) 


840 


INDEX. 


AN ALOQY — continued. 

Confirms the proof of the indiscerptibility of living agents, 96. 

Gives eredibility to the doctrine of future rewards and pujishmeBti^ 

111 . 

Answers objeetions against future punishments, 112-115. 

Between our trial in our t'-inporal and that in our religious capacity, 
140-142. 

Between the beginning of life, as a preparation for mature age, ani 
our present state, as a preparation for a future one, 146-164. 

Of the waste of seeds, as answering the objection, that the present stat* 
is not, to many, a discipline in virtue, 161. 

Between the speculative reason and the moral understanding, 176. 

Argument from, not affected by the scheme of necessity, 165-181. 

Answers objections against the wisdom and goodness of God's govern- 
ment, indirectly, 180. 

Between God’s natural and his moral government, as to their vastness 
and incomprehensibleness, 181, 182. 

Between the natural and the moral world, as regards means and ends, 
184, 185. 

Affords no argument against the general scheme of Christianity, 213. 

No presumption from, against a revelation at the beginning of the 
world, considered as miraculous, 215-217. 

answers supposed presumptions against miracles, 217-219. 

Shows objections against Christianity itself, as distinguished from 
objections against its evidence, to be frivolous, 221-223. 

Makes it probable that, if we judge of Christianity by preconceived 
expectations, we shall find many things seeming liable to objec- 
tions, 222, 223. 

Between natural information and inspiration, 223, 224. 

More particularly, between the limitations and hindrances of natural in- 
formation and the instruction afforded us by revelation, 226, 228. 

Between the use of miraculous gifts and the use of the gifts of memcry, 
eloquence, Ac., 227, 228. 

Makes it credible that the Scripture contains truths as yet undisco- 
vered, 228. 

Between Christianity, as a remedial system, and the natural remediei 
for disease, 229, 230. 

Answers objections against the wisdom of the means used by Chris 
tianity, 235. 

Makes it credible that the Christian dispensation may have beex al 
along carried on by general laws, 235, 236. 

Answers objections against Christianity, as being a slowly-operatin/ 
and complicated scheme, 238, 239. 

Removes all presumption against the general notion of a Mediator, 2i( 


INDEX. 


341 


ANALOGY — continued. 

Makes it supposable that future punishment may follow vice, by waj 
of natural consequence, 240, 241. 

Shows that we have no reason to believe that repentance alon« will 
prevent future punishment, 244, 245. 

Answers the objection that the death of Christ represents God as indil- 
ferent whether he punishes the innocent or the guilty, 252-256, 
Shows that we cannot expect to have the like information concerning 
God’s conduct as concerning our own duty, 254, 255. 

Answers objections from the want of universality in revelation and th* 
doubtfulness of its evidence, 256, 257. 

Of a prince sending directions to his servants, whether applicable to 
God, 269. 

Between prophecy and satirical and mythologic writing, 284, 285. 
Between a prophet and a compiler of memoirs, 285. 

Objections against arguing from the Analogy of nature to religioB, 
303-312. 

ANTIQUITY. 

Of religion, as one of its evidences, 174. 

ANTONINUS, M. 

Quoted, 103, 330, n. 

ARISTOTLE. 

« Quoted, 154, n. 

ATONEMENT. 

Our ignorance of the manner in which the ancients understood it bi 
be made, 251. 

ATTENTION. 

Moral, how exercised and disciplined by the circumstances of oui 
trial, 159. 

AUGUSTINE. 

Quoted, 199, n. 

AUTHOR OF NATURE. 

Existence of, assumed in this treatise, 87. 

Reveals himself to us as a righteous Governor, 118. 

Is deliberate in his operations, 238, 239. 

BUTLER, JOSEPH. 

Birth and education, 7, 8. Friendship with Seeker, 6, 
Correspondence with Dr. Clarke, 9. 

Joins the established church, 10. 

Appointed preacher at the Rolls’ Court, 16 
Publishes hii fifteen sermons, Jl, 12. 


342 INDEX 

BUTLER, JOSEPH. — conlinued. 

Defence of his st 3 Je, 14. Publishes the Analogy, 15 . 

Bishop of Bristol and Dean of St. Paul’s, 18. 

Refuses the primacy, 18. Bishop of Durham, 19. 

His plan of Episcopacy for America, 20. 

Charge to clergy of Durham, 20-22. His benerolonCJ, ^2, 

Sickness and death, 24. Appearance, 25. 

Character, 26. Position in theology, 26. 

3EHAVIOUR. 

Of men in their present state of trial, 141, 142. 

BENEVOLENCE. 

Absolute, defined; whether it is the only charae'o^ ^ oi, 118. 

God’s, toward us, how limited, 118. 

And the want of it, not the whole of virtue ana 'S4, 335. 
BERKELEY, BISHOP. 

Quoted, 169, n. 

BODY. 

Our present, relation of, to us not necessary to th K -'ing, 96. 

BODIES. 

Our organized, may be presumed to be no part ol ourselves, 93. 

Made up of organs and instruments of perception ana motion, 93G6& 
BRAHMANS. 

Their notion of death, 103, n. 

BRUTE FORCE. 

Natural tendency of reason to prevail over, 123-130. 

BRUTES. 

Question of their natural immortality argued, 100, 101. 

Instinct of, superior in some things to the reason of men, 226. 

Have no reflex sense of actions, as distinguished from events, 330. 

CERTAINTY. 

Moral, highest degree of probable evidence, S3. 

CHALMERS, DR. 

Ilis view of Butler’s argument in P. I. ch. 1, 106. 

Quoted, 117, 122, 138, 145, 187, 218, 220, 272. 

CHANCE. 

In reality, no such thing as, 236. 

CHANGES. 

Which wo have already undergone, afford a presumption in favour ot 
a future existence, 91, 95-97. 

The, which various creatures may undergo without destruction, 91, 92 


INDEX. 


843 


CnAKACTER. 

What is meant by, 171. n. Our capability of forming a now, 150. 

Of virtue and piety, a necessary qualification for a future state, 15S» 

Our capacity of improvement therein, 163-158. 

Our moral, to be manifested to the creation by means of a state o* 
trial, 164. <1 

CUILDnOOD. 

A state of discipline for mature age, 151. 

URIST. 

The Scriptural representation of his interposition as Mediator, 247-249, 

His prophetical, regal, and priestly offices, 250-251. 

His sacrifice not an allusion to the Mosaic sacrifices, 250-251 : Ground 
of its efficacy not explained in Scripture, 251. 

Objection against the death of, as a propitiatory sacrifice, 252-256. 

Sufferings of, voluntary, 253. 

CHRISTIANS. 

Primitive, their conversion and zeal, as proving the reality of tl»« 
Scripture miracles, 277, 278.. 

CHRISTIANITY. 

Not, if it be from God, of small importance, 199. 

A republication of natural religion, and with what circumstances of 
advantage, 199-204. 

Has brought life and immortality to light, 201. 

Preserves the knowledge of religion for all ages, by means of a visibU 
church, 201, 202. 

Good effects of, not small, and alleged ill effects do not properly be- 
long to it, 203. 

Contains an account of a dispensation, not discoverable by reason, 
carried on by the Son and Spirit, 204. 

Enjoins, in consequence, new duties, not otherwise to be ascertained, 
204, 205. 

No presumption against the general scheme of, whether considered 
miraculous or not, 213-215: None, because it is not discoverable 
by reason or experience, 214, 215 : None, because it is unlike 
the known course of nature, 214, 215. 

Objections against, as distinguished from objections against its evi- 
dence, frivolous, 221. 

True question concerning, is whether it be a real revelation, tot 
whether it is such a one as we might have expected, 224. 

What objections against, would be valid, 224, 225. 

Practical part of, plain and obvious, 228. 

Objection against, from the long delay of its publication to the world 
229, 2 HO. 


344 


INDEX. 


CHRISTIANITY — cotHintied. 

Objections against the goodness and wisdom of, not ralid^ 23-3, 2JT. 
See Revelation, Revealed Religion. 

CHRISTIAN DISPENSATION. 

May appear natural to some beings in the universe, 106. 

CHURCH. 

The visible, design of the institution of, 201, 202. 

The carrying out of its design, implies positive institutions, 202, 

OICERO. 

Quoted, 330, n. 

CLARKE, DR. SAMUEL. 

Ilis Demonstration,” 9, 167, n. 

COMPASSION. 

Evidence of, in the original constitution of the world, 242. 
Unhappiness the natural object of, 333. 

CONSCIENCE. 

How it appears that we have the faculty so called, 329, 330. 

Includes both a sentiment of the understanding and a perception otf 
. the heart, 330. 

Has for its object actions, 330, 331. 

CONSCIOUSNESS. 

Indivisibility of, a proof of the indivisibility of the conscious being, 96 
Does not constitute personal identity, but ascertains it to ourselvesb 
324, 325. 

The doubt on this subject shown to be groundless, 325. 
JONTINUANCE. 

Of all things, natural presumption in favour of, 93. 
CORRESPONDENCE. 

Between our nature and our condition, necessary to life and happw 
ness, 146. 

CREATION. 

Scripture begins with the, in order to ascertain for us the true objo«t 
of our worship, 289. 

CREATURE. 

Notion of an upright and finitely perfect one, 154, 155. 

In what way such a one may fall, 155, 156. 

CREDIBILITY. 

Of a truth or matter of fact, distinguished from the wirdom and good 
ness of it, 180. 


INDEX. 


8ib 


f) ANGERS. 

Implied io our state of probation for a future life, 142. 

DANIEL. 

The book of, referred to, 286, 287. 

DEATH. 

Known to us only in some of its effects, 94. 

Not likely, from any thing we know, to destroy living agents, 93 : Not 
present powers of reflection, 101, 102: Nor 3vea to sxuptnd 
the exercise of those powers, 102-104. 

Like our birth, may put us into a more enlarged state of life, 103. 
Notion of the Brachmans concerning, 103. 

DEFINITIONS. 

Sometimes serve only to perplex, 323. 

DEGRADATION. 

Marks of our being in a state of, 142, 143, 247. 

DEMONSTRATION. 

As distinguished from probable evidence, 83. 

DESCARTES. 

An example of those thinkers who would frame a world upon bypo> 
thesis, 86. 

DESERT. 

Good and ill, the perception of, defined, 331. 
iUlSCIPLINE. 

Effect of, to improve the principle of virtue in us, 165. 

Needed by upright creatures, 153-157. 

Indispensably necessary for corrupt creatures, 157, 158. 

This world peculiarly fit to be a place of, for our moral imprcvemeni, 
158-160. 

DIFFICULTIES. 

In religion, unreasonable to expect to have them all cleared, 304, 305. 
As to the evidence of religion, are analogous to those attending th« 
practice of it, 264. 

Those may be the principal part of some persons’ trial, 265, 266. 
FFERENT. 

Degrees of evidence in religious matters consistent with justice, 259. 
FFERENCE. 

Of moir’p situations in religious matters, to be accounted for in thi 
s-aine manner as their different situations in other respects, 260 
Would uofc bo prevented, though revelation were universal, 260. 


346 


INDEX. 


DISEASES. 

Of the body and the mind, analogy between the remedies for, 229, 2iH 
Mortal diseases, not affecting our intellectual powers, afford a presump, 
tion that those powers will not be destroyed by them, 162. 

DOUBT. 

Implies some degree of evidence for that of which we doubt, *63. 
With regard to religion, implies an obligation to regard it in practise 
26-1. 

OUBAMS, 

Our experience of, what it shows us, 99. 

DUTIES. 

Our, to the Son and Spirit, arise out of their relations to us, and ait 
strictly moral, 205, 206. 

Moral and positive, distinguished- 208. 


ECCLESIASTES. • . 

Quoted, 146, and n. 

END. 

The whole, for which God made and governs the world, mo.y be utterlj 
beyond the reach of our faculties, 109. 

See Means and Ends. 

ENTHUSIASM. 

Christianity not such a scheme as would have been expected from, 232. 
As an objection ta the Christian evidences, considered and answered, 
278-282. 

Will not account for the conversion and zeal of the first Christians- 279. 
Religion not peculiarly liable to, 280. 

The case of enthusiasm and knavery combined considered, 280, 281. 
General observations upon, cannot overthrow direct historical evi<’mnce^ 
281, 282. 

EPICTETUS. 

Quoted, 329, n. 

EVIDENCE. 

Probable and demonstrative, distinguished, 83. See Probable Eviienvt, 
The external, for natural religion, 174, 175. 

Of Scripture, reason competent to judge of, 231. 

Doubt implies some degree of, 263. 

Circumstantial, often as convincing as the most direct, 300. 

Not only increased, but multiplied, by the adding together »f 
probable proofs, 300. 


INDEX. 


o47 


RVIDENCE (F CHRISTIANITY. 

Tho stato in which it is left, not inconsistent with justice, i i. Not 
inconsistent with wisdom and goodness, 260-266. 

Doubtfulness of, may put men into a state of trial, 261-264. A statf 
of trial similar to that from external circumstances of tempta- 
tion, 264r-266. 

Our dissatisfaction with, may be our own fault, 267, 268. 

Lies level to men of common capacity, 268, 269. 

Tota. result of the direct and collateral, may be compared with \ht 
effect in architecture, 273. 

Direct and circumstantial, view of, as forming one argument, 287- 
302. 

Safer to admit it, than to reject it, 301. 

Cannot, from its nature, be destroyed, though it may be lessened, 
302. 

True question with regard to, 309. 

EVIL. 

Prevalence of, no argument against the power or gooaness of God, 
108, «. 

Permission of, may be beneficial to the world, 185. 

Yet would have been better if men had refrained from it, 185. 

Reliefs and remedies originally provided for, 242. 

EXAMPLE AND EDUCATION. 

Effect of a bad, in increasing the dangers of our state of trial, 142. 
EXISTENCE. 

Necessary, in what sense attributed to God, 168. 

EXTERNAL. 

Objects, as related to the particular affections of our nature, 154. 
Circumstances, one of the sources of trial in our present state, 140, 

FAI.L OP MAN. 

Explicable, from the nature of particular affections, 155, 156. 

Not accounted for, solely from the principle of liberty, 156. 
Appearances of a, in nature, 142. 

Our condition resulting from the, does not afford just matter of coin 
plaint, 143. 

The Christian dispensation grounded upon the supposition of a, 245. 
The Scriptural account of it analogous and conformable to what 
see and experience, 247. 

fi WEIIOOD. 

The several kinds of it, 280. 

Whether the use of certain forms of speech is, 3E7. 


INDEX. 


64S 

FATALIST, THE. 

His scheme of the world stated, 166. 

Shown, by pertinent examples, to be absurd in practice, 166- 176 
His objection to the justice of punishments refuted, 171. 

Keligious and irreligious fatalists distinguished, 178, 179, n. 

PATE. 

See Necessittf. 
lEAR AND HOPE. 

Legitimate moral motives, 161. ’ 

Of future punishucnt and reward, caniiot be ^ot rid of by greater part 
of the world, 124. 

FINAL CAUSES. 

The notion of, does not always imply that the end designed is an 
swered, 161. 

The pleasures and pains attending our actions, instances of. 111. 

The proof from, of the existence of God, not destroyed by the scheme* 
of necessity, 166, 167. 

FITNESS, MORAL. 

Whether, and in what sense, it determines the will of God, 173, n. 

The proof of religion from, not insisted on in this treatise, 173, 310. 

And unfitness of actions, in what sense understood, 332, 333. 

FITZGERALD, PROFESSOR. 

Quoted, 83, 86, 92, 108, 119, 131, 134, 136, 149, 154, 169, 178, 180, 19^/ 
201, 208, 210, 232, 273, 295, 300, 330. 


FOLLY. 

Defined and shown to be akin to vice, 333, 334. 

Of mankind, as to present and future interests compared, 141. 

FUTURE STATE. 

A, will probably be a social one, 105, 153. 

Question of, why so important to us, 107. 

Three questions relative to, considered, 103, n. 

Demonstration of, not of itself a proof of religion, 105. Yet implied 
in religion, 106. 

Security of the good in, may be derived from the habits formed in t 
state of probation, 158. 

This life a state of discipline for, P. I. ch. v. 

yi^TURE REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. 

Will differ only in degree from those of our present state, 135. 

As conceived by natural reason, and as specially described in Serip. 
ture, 114. M. 


INDEX. 


349 


FCTURE PUNISIIxMENTS. 

General consideration of, belongs to natural religion, IJ 
Doctrine of, shown by Analogj^ to be altogether credible, lIi^-116. 
May follow vice, by way of natural consequence, 241. 

Reformation and repentance alone insuflScient to prevent them, 244, 24& 
See Punishments. 

GENERAL LAWS. 

The manifest wisdom of carrying on the natural government c( tL< 
world by means of, 185. 

lutonaptions of, would produce evil aad prevent good, 186. 

Credible that the Christian dispensation may have been, all along, 
carried on by, 235-237. 

And hence, that miracles may proceed from, 236. 

Only from Analogy, that we conclude the whole course of nature to b« 
carried on by, 236. 

GIFTS. 

Superior, not always bestowed on persons of prudence and decenoy. 
227, 228. 

GOD. 

True idea of, that ©f a Governor, 111. 

His Existence : Why taken for granted in this treatise, 87. 

Not disproved by the scheme of fatalism, 166, 167. 

In what sense necessary, 166. 

His Will : How determined, 173, n. 

May be considered as absolute or conditional, 270. 

Resignation to His will, an essential part of virtue, 162, 163. 
What temper of mind in us corresponds to his sovereignty, 163. 
And character, what is meant by, as applied to Him, 171. 

His Goodness : May seek to make only the good happy, 109. 

Shown by experience to be no good ground for expecting him to 
make us happy all at once, 163. 

Does not give us the same information concerning his conduct ns con- 
cerning our duty, 254, 255. 

Dictates of conscience, the laws of, 172. 

Our duties to God the Father; to the Son and to the Holy Spuriti 
204-206. 

GOVERNMENT. 

End of, probably beyond the reach of our faculties, 109. 

His natural government of us, by rewards and punishments, 107-116. 
The course of nature, but another name for, 109. 

Not the less certainly established, though in it He act not immediately^ 

110 , 111 . 

His moral government: Proofs of its existence and operation, 117-137 

30 


350 


INDEX. 


e CD’S G 0 VERNMENT. - • continued. 

Not yet, in this present state, carried on to its perfection, 119. Ye 
tends to perfection, 128. 

His natural and moral government compared, 180-189. 

May both together make up one scheme, 182. 

Likely that, as His natural government is a scheme beyond oar ooia 
prehension, the moral may be such a one, too, 181-184. 

His visible government over the world exercised by the mediation cl 
others, 122. 240. 

PROVIDENCE. 

The series of his providential dispensations progressive, 238, 239. 
Objections to his providence usually founded on our ignorance, 183. 
How far we are concerned to answer objections against, 306-308. 
fiOOD AND EVIL. 

Natural, the great variety and seeming inequality of their distributi m, 
256, 257. 

GOOD MEN. 

Disposed to befriend good men, as such, 124. 

Difficulties in the way of their union with each other here, 131. 

GOODNESS. 

The Divine. See God. 

GOVERNMENT, 

The formal notion of, what it consists in, 110. 

Natural and moral defined, and distinguished from cash other, 117, 118 
Domestic and civil, ordained of God, 125. 

Punishes vice as such, and as hurtful to society, 125. 

GROTIUS. 

Quoted, 268, n. 

GUILT. 

The idea of, always associated in our minds with that of ill-desert, 332. 
GUIZOT. 

Quoted, 239. 

HABITS. 

Defined, 147. Our capacity of acquiring them, 147. 

Distinguished as habits of perception and habits of action, habits of 
body and habits of mind, 147. 

Active, may be growing stronger, while passive impressions are be. 
coming weaker, 148, 149. 

Of mind, produced by the exertion of inward practical principles, 148. 
The acquisition of, necessary to us, 150. 

Of virtue, necessary to all rational creatures, whether virtu' gui dr de- 
praved, 153. 


INDEX. 


6b\ 

HAPPINESS. 

Our present, mainly defends upon our own behaviour, 107, 108. 

Why not given to all promiscuously, without regard to conduct. 108. 

109. 

A result from our nature and condition jointly, 146. 

Of virtue, possibility of exceptions to, 120, 127. 

Virtue produces, and tends to produce it in a still higher degree than 
at present, 121-126, 128-133. 

The fact that our precjnt, is not to be secured without difficulty and 
trial, makes it credible that the same may be true of our future^ 
140, 141. 

Of mankind, the aiming at, without regard to veracity and justice, not 
a correct idea of virtue, 336. 

HEATHEN. 

World, state of, shows the importance of revealed religion, 197. 

Different relations of the, to the genuine Scripture revelation, 258. 

HINDRANCES. 

The present, of the natural tendencies of virtue, only accidental, 136. 

HISTORY. 

W’^hat account it gives of the origin of religion, 175. 217. 

The whole of revelation, including prophecy and doctrine, may b< 
considered as a history, 289. 

The common, 5n Scripture, altogether credible, 294. 

The failure to invalidate the Scripture history, a strong argument ia 
its favour, 290, 291. 

IDENTITY. 

Or sameness, different senses of the word, 324. 

In what sense applied to persons, 325. 

Not constituted by consciousness, but ascertained by it, 324. 

Absurdity of the supposition that we are not the same beings in suo 
cessive periods of time, 327, 328. 

JEWS. 

A summary of their history, as a nation, 295-297. 

Their history, as contained in Scripture, confirmed by known fac^ 
295, 296. 

Their continuance as a distinct people, in their dispersion, a standing 
miracle, and a confirmation of the truth of Scripture, 297. 

Their final restoration, 298. 

I'INORANCE, OUR. 

How this life is a preparation for another, no objection against thi 
credibility of its being so, 152. 

Of the scheme of nature and of Providence, 182, 183. 


362 INDEX. 

IGNORAN CB, OUR. — continued. 

Partial and total, distinguished, 187. 

When an answer to objections against God’s method of gorernmeii^ 
and when not, 184, 187. 

Even total ignorance of the comtquencea of our actions would net in- 
validate moral obligation, 188, 

The argument from, cannot be used equally for or against religion, 188. 
Arguments from, rather taken from what Analogy teaches us about it, 
189. 

In connexion with the question of the credibility of miracles, 218, 236. 
In matters of religion, owing frequently to men’s negligence and pre- 
judices, 266, 267. 

^ { the nature of our condition, natural and moral, and the reasons 
why we are placed in it, 259, 260. 

IMAGINATION. 

The source of erroneous presumptions that death will destroy us, 96. 
IMPROVEMENT. 

Of our faculties, in all respects gradual, 150, 151. 

Our capacity for, 146-150. 

Necessity for our, in virtue, 150-152. Effected by the acquisition ol 
moral and religious habits, 153. 

IMMORALITY. 

The charge of, against certain precepts in Scripture, not valid, 231. 
INNOCENT. 

Persons, are appointed, in the course of nature, to suffer for the guilty, 
252, 253. 

INSPIRATION. 

In what manner or degree it should be vouchsafed to mankind, not 
ascertainable by reason, 223, 224. 

INTEREST. 

Sense of, defined, 155, n. 

In what sense consistent with virtue, and part of its idea, 155, n. 

As coincident with virtue, needs strengthening by discipline, 155, ». 

IRREGULARITIES. 

Apparent, in nature and in Christianity, whence they arise, 237. 
Unreasonable to expect them to be remedied by occasional interpo- 
sitions, 186. 

IRRELIGION. 

Its aggravated guilt, beyond that of other vice, 243. 

Especially in persons of high rank and character, 263. 

Not justifiable upon any protence of want of evidence in religion^ 264 


INDEX. 


353 


kINGDOM. 

Idea of a perfectly virtuous and happy, 132, 133. 

Christ’s, as described in Scripture, 250. 

KNOWLEDGE. 

Our, of Scripture, will be perfected in the same way as our knowledjji 
of nature, 228. 

L.ANGUAGE. 

In its very nature, liable to infinite abuse, 226. 

LIBERTY. 

Does not, of itself, account for the fall of finite creatures, 156. 

Why the proof of religion from, is omitted in this treatise, 310, 311. 
Implied in the constitution of the world, and our condition therein, 169. 
Doctrine of, shows where the fallacy lies in the scheme of necessity, 
when reduced to practice, 177. 

LIFE. 

Our present, a probation for a future one. As implying trial an 1 dan- 
ger, 138-144. As intended for moral discipline, 145-164. Fci 
the manifestation of character, 164. 

See Future Life. 

LIKENESS. 

Various species of, defined, 83, n. 

LIVING POWERS. 

Twofold sense of the phrase, 93, n. 

Our, not likely to bo destroyed by death, 93-104. 

Their not being exercised, does not imply their non-existence, 94 . 

LOCKE. 

Quotation from his chapter on Probability, 84. 

His notion of personal identity examined, 325, 326. 

MACKINTOSH, SIR JAMES. 

Quoted, 9, 12. 

MAHOMETANISM. 

Was not received in the world on the foot of public miracles, 276, 
MARTYRS. 

The primitive ; their sufferings a testimony to the truth of the CLri» 
tian miracles, 277, 278. 

Were not enthusiasts, 279. 

MATTER. 

Indiscerptibility of its elementary particles by any natural power, 91 
Our bekg affected by, does not prove it to bo part of ourselves, 97 . 
See Body. 

80 * 


INDEX. 


jJ54 

MATTER OF FACT. 

The system of religion viewed as, irrespective of all speculation, t72. 
1/istinguished from abstract truth, 311. 

Objections to Christianity, as matter of fact, answered, P. II. ch. 3. 

' MEANS AND ENDS. 

Events are related to each other as, 184. 

Our incompetency, prior to experience, to judge of either, 184. 

No presumption against the wisdom of the means used by Christianity, 
235. The objection that they are complicated, and of bIoh 
operation, answered, 237-239. 

MEDIATOR. 

N' presumption from the course of nature against the general notian 
01 a, 240. 

Scripture view of his office, 247-251. 

Christian doctrine of, in what respect most objected to, 252. 

This objection answered, 253-255. 

See Sacrifice. 

MICROSCOPES AND GLASSES. 

Our organs of perception compared with, 98, 99. 

MIRACLES. 

In Scripture, effects of, equivalent to habits, 194, n. 

Prove the system of natural religion, as well as the revealed, 200, 201. 
No presumption against, at the beginning of the world, 215, 216. 

The incarnation of Christ an invisible miracle, 215. 

No argument from Analogy against, after the settlement of the coarse 
of nature, 217. 

No greater presumption against, than against ordinary facts before 
proof, 218. 

Occasions may arise for, in the course of ages, 218. 

The moral system of the world gives distinct reasons for, 218. 

Must be compared with the extraordinary phenomena of nature, 219. 
May be subject to general laws, 236, 237. 

The Christian, are recorded in books of authentic, genuine history, 
273-275. 

The reality and truth of, affirmed in the epistles of St. Paul, 275, 276. 
Christianity first preached and received upon the allegation of, 276-278L 
Mahometan and Popish not parallel, 276, 277. 

M^‘iACULOUS. 

Gifts, in the apostolic age; the objection finm their disorderly exeroi#* 
answered, 227, 228. 

^hat events, seemingly natural, may be eo estcciflcd, 297. 


INDEX. 


855 


MISTAKES. 

Of transcribjrg of Scripture : No more than were to have been cs- 
pected in books of such antiquity, 295. 

MORAL. 

Action, whether the nature of, can be altered by a command, 2.30, 23L 
Duties, arise from revealed relations, as well as from those made known 
by reason, 208. 

Faculty, our : its dictates the laws of God, in a sense including «a:.to 
tiona, 172. 

licGce, affords a proof of religion not tc be invalidated by fatalism, 172. 
See Conscience. 

Government. See Government. 

Evil, voluntary in its very notion, 145. 

Our inability to account for, 145. 

Part of religion, why preferred in Scripture to the positive, 209-212. 
Precepts. See Positive. 

Theory, Butler’s contributions to, 12. 

Understanding, our, liable to be impaired and perverted, 175, 170. 
.ORALITY. 

Of Scripture, reason competent to judge of, 230, 231. 

Of actions, depends chiefly on the intention of the agent, 329, 330. 
Partly, also, on a comparison of his intentions with his nature and 
capacities, 332. 

MOTION. 

Supposed indivisible, compared with consciousness, 95. 

MYSTERIES. 

To be expected, if we judge from experience, in such a scheme ai 
Christianity, 222. 235. 

As great in nature as in Christianity, 236, 237. 252-255. 

NATURE. 

Light of, insufficient, 197. 

Teachings of, as to a future state, and the efficacy of repentance, 
114, « 243-245. 

xlonrse of, implies an operating agent, 109. 241. 

No presumption against revealed religion, from its being unlike 
the, 214, 215. 

How ascertained to be by general laws, 235, 236. 

Is not a fixed, but a progressive scheme, 105. 

Our ignorance of the causes, Ac., on which it depends, 218, 

We know not what is the, upon the Ik’st peopling of worlds, 21 5 
Oui as a source of our trial, 140, 141. 


INDEX. 


356 

NATURAL. 

True sense of the term, 105. 

Our notion of what is, may be enlarged by a greater knowledge of the 
works and the providence of God, 105. 

God’s natural government probably subservient to his moral, 182. 

Religion, Christianity a republication, and an external institution 3^ 
199-204. 

Sfl® Oovernment — Religion. 

NECESSARY. 

Existence of God, in what sense to be understood, 166. 

NECESSITY. 

Opinion of, Butler’s mode of considering, 165. 

Does not exclude deliberation and choice, 166. 

Does not destroy the proof of an intelligent author and Governor of 
nature, 166. 

Supposed reconcilable with the course of nature, is reconcilable also 
with the system of religion, 167-171. 

Does not destroy ihQ proof of religion, 171-175. 

V However true in speculation, yet shown by experience to be false in 
practice, 168-170. 

The attributes of veracity, bv nevolence, and justice in God, reconcilable 
with, 171. 

The conclusion from, that it is incredible that God should reward and 
punish us, fallacious, 176, 177. 

In what sense destructive of religion, and in what sense not, 178. 

NEGLIGENCE. 

No more excusable in matters of revealed, than of natural religion, 
204. 313. 

Jm «ne source of our dissatisfaction with the evidences of religion, 
267, 268. 

ORTECTIONS ANSWERED. 

The ob. against our natural immortality, from the case of brutes, 100, 
101 : From the case of vegetables, 104. 

The ob. against the natural government of God, by rewards and 
punishments, 108, 109: Against punishments in particular, 
112-116. 

The ob. to the position, that virtue and vice, as such, are rewarded and 
punished by society, 122. 

The ob. to the assertion, that the natural tendencies of virtue may 
cease hereafter to bo hindered, 134. 

A conceivable ob. to the supposition, that wo are at present in b state 
of trial 143. 144. 


INDEX. 


857 


OBJECTIONS ANSWERED.— coniinuerf. 

The ob. that our present state does not prove to be, to many, a disci 
plino of virtue, 160. 

The ob. that a virtuous life, proceeling from hope and fear, is only a 
discipline of self-love, 161. 

The ob. from the opinion of necessity, 165-179. 

The ob. that it is incredible that God should govern us, upon the sup 
position that we are free, and not necessary agents, 176, 177. 

The ob. that evil might have been prevented by repeated divine inter- 
positions, 183, 184. 

The ob. against the argument from our partial ignorance, 187. 

The ob. against Christianity, from the sufficiency of the light of natur* 
197. 

The ob. against Christianity, from its perversions, 203, 204. 

The ob. that a revelation, not committed to writing, would not have 
answered its purpose, 224. 

The ob. that the internal improbabilities of Christianity weaken its ex- 
ternal probable proof, 225-227. 

The ob. from the disorderly exercise of miraculous gifts in the apos- 
tolic age, 227, 228. 

The ob. to the whole Analogy l)etween natural and supernatural light 
and information, 228, 229. 

The ob. that if Christianity were a divine remedial system, its publi- 
cation would not have been so long delayed, Ac., 229, 230. 

The ob. against the wisdom, justice, and goodness of Christianity, 

P. II. ch. 4. 

The ob. against the means used by Christianity, as being complicated 
and of slow operation, 237-239. 

The ob. that the death of Christ represents God as indifferent whether 
he punished the innocent or the guilty, 252-256. 

The ob. against Christianity, from its want of universality, .and the 
doubtfulness of its evidence, 256-271. 

The ob. from the case of a prince sending directions to a servant, aa 
applied to Revelation, 269, 270. 

The ob. to the evidence of miracles, 278-281. 

The ob. to the Christian evidences, from enthusiasm, 278-282. 

The ob. that the prophecies were not intended of those events t« 
which they are applied by Christians, 284, 285. 

The ob. to the entire argument, from the Analogy of nature to religion 
303-312. 

OBLIGATIONS.' 

Of duty, arising from the bare supposableness or credibility of religion 
188. 261, 262. 

Our, to the Son and the Iloly Spirit, from what they arise, 2115, 206. 


INDEX. 


Si)« 

DBSCURITIES. 

In Scripture, no valid objection against it, 224, 225. 

OPTIMISM. 

Religious and irreligious distinguished, 119, n. 

ORIGEN. 

His observation relative to the Scriptures and nature, 8®. 


r ASSIGNS. 

As making part of our state of trial, 140. 

Are excited towards particular objects, whether we will or no, 154. 
Bare excitement of, not criminal, 154. Yet always dangerous, 154. 
The principle of virtue the intended security against this danger, 154 
How the fall may be accounted for from them, 155, 156. 

Supposable that they may remain in a future state, 155. 

Are often inconsistent with reasonable self-love, as well as with virtu* 
and religion, 140. 

PASSIVE IMPRESSIONS. 

Grow weaker by repetition, 148. 

Were intended to lead to the formation of active, practical habits 
148, 149. 

PAUL, ST. 

Ills testimony : to be considered as detached from tl at of the rest of 
the Apostles, 276. 

Ills Epistles: evidence of their genuineness, 275. 

A distinct proof of Christianity to be derived from them, 275. 
PERCEPTION. 

Our organs of sense merely the instruments of, 98. 

Our power of, in dreams, without the organs of sense, 99. 

Ridiculous to dispute the truth of our perceptions, 328. 

PERFECT. 

Creatures, described, 156. May be improved by habits of virtue, 157. 
Moral government, what is, 118. 

PERSON. 

Defined, 325. Sameness of, independently of all consideration of ecu* 
sciousness, 324. 

Whether persun.ality is constituted by consciousness, 327, 328. 
PuEASURE AND PAIN. 

The consequences of our own actions, 107, 108. 

The annexing of, to our actions, the proper notion of government, 116. 
Pleasure, attending the gratification of our passions, whether and hQ\t 
far intended to put us upon gratifying them, 110. 

6«6 ffapfinesf. 


INDEX 


359 


PuRPlITRY. 

His objections to tho book of Daniel, 286, 287. 

poSetiye 

Institutions, implied in the notion of a visible church, 202. 

Are founded on natural religion, as well as on revealed, 208, 20W. 
In general, have the nature of moral commands, 209. 

Mankind prone to place the whole of religion in the ftbserfanoi 
of, without regard to moral precepts, 210. 

Great presumption to make light of, -21]. 

Precepts, wherein different from moral, 208. 

In what cases they must yield to moral, 209, 210. 

Duties, distinguished from moral, 208. 

And moral duties should be compared no farther tnan as they ar* 
different, 209. 

Christ’s decisioii upon the relation between them, 210, 211. 
PRACTICE. 

By what evidence matters of, are determined, 305, 306. 308-310. 

In matters of, their importance is always to be considered, 85. 301. 

In matters of, less proof than convinces judgment should influence be- 
haviour, 84, 85. 261, 262. 271. 309, 310. 

PRECEPTS. 

None in Scripture, contrary to immutable morality, 231. 

PREJUDICES. 

Several sorts of, 280. 

May hinder us from being rightly informed upon moral and religious 
subjects, 267, 268. 

Arising from contempt and scorn, weakness of yiebMng to them, 287. 

PRESENT EXISTENCE. 

Affords a presumption of continuance, 93. 

pRESUiMPTION. 

A slight, does not beget that degree of conviction, implied in calling a 
thing probably true, 83. 

The slightest possible, of the nature of probability, 83. 

PRIEST. 

Christ described as our, 250, 251. 

PROBABLE EVIDENCE. 

Defined and distinguished from demonstration, 83. 

Foundation of, 83. Relative to finite beings only, 84. 

Men, of neeessity, influenced and governed by, both in speculation 
in practice, 84, 85. 

Probable pr-oofs, being added together, multiply the evidence, 300. 


3G0 


INDEX 


PROBATION. 

The peculiar, of persons of a ref.ective cast of mind, 255. 

Implied in religion, 270. * 

Religion, considered as a probation, has had its end on all j ersons tc 
whom it has been proposed, with evidence sufficient to inflienc# 
praolice, 310. 

See Trial. 

FEOPIIECY. 

The primary design of the prophecies recorded in fcjcripture, 20», 

flow they confirm natural religion, 200. 

Proof of foresight from the completion of intelligible parts of prophecy, 
not invalidated by the obscurity of others, 283. 

The proof of foresight made out by a general completion of, 283, 284. 

The applicability of a long series of, to certain events, a proof that it 
was intended of them, 284, 285. 

The Analogy, in this respect, between prophecy and satirical and my- 
thological composition, 284, 285. 

How particular prophecies were interpreted by the ancient Jews and 
the primitive Christians, 285. 

Proof from, not destroyed by showing that the prophets applied them 
to other events than wo do, or that we do not apply them tc 
right ones, 285, 286. 

Of the future condition of the Jews, confirmed by their pa.«t and pre- 
sent history, 297, 298. 

The qualifications requisite to take the force of the argument from, 298. 

Conformity between the prophecies and the events, not accidental, 300 

PROPHET. 

A, compared with a compiler of memoirs received from another per. 
son, 285. 

Christ a prophet, in what sense, 250. 

PROVIDENCE. 

See God. 

PRUDENCE. 

Meaning of the word, 333. 

When a course of action may be called prudent, 309. 

And imprudence, akin to virtue and vice, 121. 333, 334. 

PUBLIC SPIRIT. 

The true notion of, 130. 

PUNISHMENT. 

The proper notion of. 111. 

Natural, circumstances in, analogous tc what religion tcaekea U. ftiteisc 
112-116. 


INDEX. 


301 


PUNISHMENT. — continued. 

Of vice, as folly, 121. As mischievous to society, 121, 122. 01 
vice, as such, 122-124. 

Of virtuous persons, and of virtuous actions, by society explained^ 

122 . 

Why, in the natural course of things, punishment does not alwsyi 
reach the vicious, 127. 

Ascribed, in Scripture, to God’s justice, 241. 

Future. See Future Punishment. 

Vicarious, instances of, in the daily course of Providence, 253. 

As the method of our redemption; the objection against, an- 
swered, 252-254. 

What is meant by deserving ifluiishment, 331, 332. 
i EASON. 

Can, a.id ought to judge of the meaning, the evidence, and the rat- 
ralily of Scripture, 230, 231. 

Natural tendency of, to prevail over brute force, 128, 129. 

Inability of, to date'^mine for us, wh 'ther the future punishment of sin 
could be prevented, 243, 244- 

Hopes and fears of, confirmed by revelation, 245, 246. 

A very incompetent judge of the conducivenoss of means to ends, 184 

Could not have discovered the scheme of Christianity, 206. No pre- 
sumption against the scheme of Christianity ou this account, 214. 

An incompetent judge of what was to be expected in revelation, 220, 221 

Incompetent to judg« oeforehand, how revelation should- have beer 
left in the worlu, 223-225. 

Folly of objections to Christianity, upon supposed principles of reason, 
314. 

REASONING. 

Upon the principles of others, what it means, 310. 

Abstruse, when necessary in matters of religion, 313. 

Upon the course of nature, without attending to known facte, apt t« 
be fallacious, 86. 

See Abstract. 
fc.BDEMPTION. 

Scripture doctrine of, stated, 247-251. 

Illustrated by the Analogy of natural remedies, 242. 

Agreeable to our natural notions, our hopes and our fears, 244-246. 

The manner of its efBcacy not made known, nor discoverable by lea 
son, 251, Ac. 

Rashness of seeking to explain it, farther than Scripture has done, 251 

See Mediator, Pnnishment, Sacrijice. 

31 


/ 


562 INDEX. 

REFLECTION. 

Our present powers of, not likely to be destroyed ?r puspended Iij 
death, 101, 102. 

Do not depend upon our bodily powers of sensation, 103. 

May be improved by death, 103. 

RELATIONS. 

Of the several species and individuals in the natural world, impossibh 
for us to say how far they extend, 181, 182. 

The revealed relations of the Son and the Holy Spirit to us, 205. 
Duties arising from, strictly moral, 205, 206. 

Analogy the similarity or sameness of relations, 81. 

RELIGION. 

Wherein the general spirit of, consists, 211. 

Considered in this treatise solely as a question of fact, 311. 

Is founded in God’s moral character, 171, 172. 

What is implied in it : See P. 1. chaps. 1-5. 

The proof and the obligations of, not destroyed by the opinion ot no. 
cessity, 167-175. 

The historical account of its origin, 175. 217. 

No argument from Analogy against, because its evidence is doubtful, 
256, 257 : Or because its evidence is not universal, 257. 

This state of its evidence not inconsistent with justice, 259 : Nor with 
wisdom and goodness, 260-266. 

Proof of, lies level to men of common capacity, 268, 269. 

Evidence of, like to that upon which we are appointed to act in oui 
temporal affairs, 306. 

Objections against its reasonableness to be distinguished from objec- 
tions against its truth, 307. 

A trial of the integrity and honesty of men, 309. 

Natural, what, 174. 293. Has external evidences, 175. 

Whether it could have been reasoned out, 197. 

The great advantages which it receives from Christianity, 199-« 
201. 293. 

How promoted by the settleiuent of a visible church, 201, 202. 
Analogy of, properly used to remove objections to revealed, 304, 
305. 

See Revelation, Revealed Religion. 

REMEDIES. 

Some diseases are remedies, 185. 

Analogy between natural remedies and Christianity, as a remedial pre. 
vision for us, 229, 230. 

The provision of them an instance of compassion in the original cea 
stituUon of the world, 242. 


INDEX. 


363 


REPENTANCE. 

Its insufficiency to expiate guilt argued from Analogy, 245. Argued 
also from the general sense of mankind, 245. 

Its efficacy, whence derived, 251. 

RESIGNATION. 

To God’s will, an essential part of virtue, 162. 

Afflictions, the proper discipline for, 162, 163. 

Prosperity and imagination may give occasion for, 162. 
REVELATION. 

Necessary to the explanation of the scheme of the universe, 132. 

Shown, from the state of mankind, to bo by no means useless, 197, 198. 

Discovers new relations, and consequently imposes new duties, 204-207. 

Whether a, made at the beginning of the world, should be considered 
miraculous, 215, 216. 

No peculiar difficulty in supposing one to have been made at that time, 
216, 217. 

A supposed, might bo proved false, from immoralities and contradic- 
tions, 221. 

Its teachings as to the condition of men, and the means provided for 
their recovery, 245-247. 

Jewish and Christian, the degrees of their evidence different at different 
times, 257-259. 

Character of the revelation given us in Scripture, 289-291. 

Summary of its contents, 291-293. 

Facts admitted in relation to it, 293-299. 

Objections against, as much levelled against natural religion, 304, 305» 

See Christianity, Religion, 

REVEALED RELIGION. 

Is a republication and external institution of natural religion^ 199-204; 
in its genuine simplicity, 200; with authority, 200, 201; with 
increasing light, 201; with a visible church and positive insti- 
tutions, 201, 202. 

Likely to differ from our preconceived expectations, and to bo liable, 
on this account, to objections, 222, 223. 

These objections, however, frivolous, 223. 

A particular scheme under the general plan of providence, 234. 

In what condition it supposeii mankind to be, 229. 246, 247. 

May bo considered as wholly historical, 289. 

To be judged of by all its evidences taken together, 301. 

See Christianity. 

REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. 

According to the natural constitution of things, correspond to virtos 
and vice, 127 


864 


INDEX. 


REWAllDS AND PUNISHMENTS. — confnmcrf. 

Though not equally distributed now, yet, in all probability, will j 4 
liereafter, 130, &c. 

Hope of reward, a legitimate motive to obedience, 161. 

See Punishment. 

RIDICULE. 

How it obstructs men’s seeing the evidence of religion, 267. 

Though applied to show the argument from Analogy in a disadfanta* 
geous light, yet cannot invalidate it. 111. 312.. 

SACRIFICES. 

Propitiatorj’^, what the general prevalence of, shows us, 245. 

How they originated among the Jews, and other ancient nations, 250i. 
The death of Christ a proper sacrifice, 247-249. 

Its efficacy, 261. 

Manner of its efficacy not explained, 251. 

Objections against it on this ground highly absurd, 251, 252. 

See Mediator. 

SCEPTICISM. s 

Will not justify a presumptuous fearlessness with regard to what may 
bo hereafter, 116. 

Implies a general state of probation, in the moral and religious senses 
261, 262. 

The immorality and irreligion of sceptics utterly inexcusable, 318. 
How far towards speculative infidelity a sceptic can go, who has had 
true Christianity, with its proper evidence, laid before him, and 
has considered them, 319. 

See Doubting. 

SCORN. 

Of religion, to what owing, 314. 319. 

SCRIPTURE. 

How to be interpreted, 212. 225. General design of, 289. 

What objections against, would be valiQ, ^24, 225. 

Probably contains truths yet undiscovered, 228. 

Method by which wo shall come to know its full meaning, 228. 

How far reason is competent to judge of, 230, 231. 

Contains no precepts contrary to immutable morality, 231. 

May be considered as wholly historical, 289. 

Considering its antiquity, and the variety of its contents, its not beiB| 
confuted, affords strong presumption of its truth, 290, 291. 
Summary of its contents, 291-293. 


INDEX. 


365 


BCRIPTURE. — continued. 

The establishment of natural religion in the world, greatly owing to 
293, 294. 

Antiquity of its first parts, 294. 

Its chronology and common history confirmed by thj natural and civ3 
history of the world, 294. 

Has internal marks of credibility, 294. 

Has no more mistakes of transcribers, than were to be expected u 
books of such antiquity, 295. ^ 

The credibility of its common history gives credibiliey to its miracu- 
lous, 295. 

See Christianityf Revelation, Ac. 

BELF. 

Indivisible, 95. Its sameness does not depend on the sameness of the 
body, 96, 97. 

*JELF-DENIAL. 

The fact that it is necessary for our present happiness, makes it ere 
dible that it may be likewise necessary for our future, 140, 141 
143, 144. 

Necessity of, argued from the nature of particular affections, 156. 
Productive of resignation to God’s will, 162. 

SELF-LOVE. 

Reasonable, is coincident with virtue, 155, n. 

Is daily seen to be overmatched by passion, 140. 155 n. 

No cause for its being disclaimed by moralists as a motive, 155, n. 

Has need to be approved and disciplined, 155, n. 162. 

SHAFTESBURY, LORD. 

His writings referred to, 13. 119. 

SIMPLICITY. 

Of a living agent, argument to prove, 95. 

SON OF GOD. 

The gift of, to the world, 246, 247. 

TEMPTATIONS. 

Implied in the idea of a state of probation, 139. Sources of ear, 14^ 
141. 

Those of our temporal and of our religious trial compared, 140-144. 

A means of disciplining the moral principle, 159. 

Virtuous habits the proper security against, 154, 155. 

The supposition of them lessens, in certain cases, ftie perception of ill 
desert, 332 
81 * 


INDEX. 


366 

TENDENCY. 

Ambiguity of (he word, 136, n. 

Tendencies of virtue will probably hereafter become effect, 1S6. 
TESTIMONY. 

When only it can be destroyed, 282. 

See Evidence, Evidence of Christianity. 

TRIAL. 

Our, in our temporal, compared with that in our religious capacity 
140-142. 

Proceeds in both from the same causes, and has the same effect upon 
behaviour, 141, 142. 

Difficulties of, increased by misbehaviour of others, 142 ; Also by our 
own errors and follies, 142. 

Equitableness of our present state of, vindicated, 142, 143. 

Not possible for us to understand all the reasons of our being placed 
in, 145. 

End of, our improvement in virtue and piety, as a qualification for a 
future state, 145. 

May also be intended for the manifestation of our characters to the 
rest of the creation, 164. 

The present state of the evidence of religion may be part of soma 
men’s trial, 260-264: And perhaps the chief part, 265, 266. 
Difficulties of belief afford a trial analogous to external temptations, 
264-266. 

UNDERSTANDINGl. 

Our probation with regard to the exercise of the, 260, 261. 
UNIVERSALITY. 

Objections to Christianity from the want of, considered, 256-271. 
VEGETABLES. 

The destruction of, not analogous to the death of living agents, 104, 
What is meant by their identity, 324, 325. 

VERACITY. 

Our natural regard to it, 335. When violated, 337. 

VICE. 

What it chiefly consists in, 332. Folly a species of, 333, 334, 
Punished by society as hurtful to itself, 121, 122. 

This life is, to some men, a discipline in, 160. 

Future punishment of, may follow as a natural consequence, 241. 
Probable, from the course of nature, but not certain, that the peuai 
eoasequencep of, might bo prevented, 24.3. 


INDEX. 


387 


VICE. — continutd. ' 

No probability that any thing wo could do, would, cf itself, prevent 
them, 243, 244. 

See Virtut and Vice. 

V'TCIOUS. 

Actions, never rewarded by society, because they are vicious, 122. 

Persons, prosperity of, reconciled with moral government, 127. 

?!RTUE. 

Possibility of exceptions to the happiness of, 120. 

Social advantages of, a proof of an established moral government, 124, 

Conditions necessary to its complete triumph over vice, 129, 130. 

Its natural tendencies hindered in our present state, 131. May be 
more advantageously situated hereafter, 131. 

A bond of union among all endued with it, 131. 

Happy effects of, set forth in the instance of a perfectly virtuous king 
dom, 132, 133. 

Habit of, not formed by merely thinking and talking of virtue, 148. 

Virtue and piety, a necessary qualification for a future state, 153. Oux 
capacity of improvement therein, by moral and religious habits, 
153. Necessity of improvement argued, 153-158. 

Habit of, the security against the undue operation of particular affec- 
tions, 154-157. 

There is a universally acknowledged standard of, 320. 

Corresponds to our notion of good desert, 331. 

Common instances of, do not raise a strong perception of good deseit, 
and why, 332. 

Prudence a part of virtue, 333, 334. 

Does not consist entirely in benevolence, 334, 335. 

VIRTUOUS. 

Actions, never punished by society, because they are virtuous, 122. 

Persons, afflictions of, how reconciled with moral government, 127. 

VIRTUE AND VICE. 

Are, in the natural course of things, rewarded and punished, as 

122 . 

As qualities of actions, effects^ of, on men’s minds, 123, 124. 126. 

Tendency of, to produce their effects in a greater degree .than they d« 
at present, 128-134. 

Overbalance of happiness or misery, not tho standard of virtue ail 
vice, 335, 336. 

WHATELY, ARCHBISHOP. 

Quoted, 9. 


INDEX. 


S6S 

WILL AND CHARACTER. 

Explained, 171, n. 

May bo affirmed of the Author of Nature, notwithstanding the scheiai 
of necessity, 171. 

WI.RLD. 

Tho present, fit to be a state of discipline for moral imprifTejjtea^ 
168-160. 

A theatre, f^r the manifestation of persons’ characters, 164 
£?atarftl, intended to he subordinate to the moral, 183,"' 
of, how viewed in Scripture, 288. 


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